What If JT Hadn't Died?
by futureauthor612
Summary: Alternate title: "Forever and Ever, Baby".On the night of Liberty's birthday party, JT is stabbed. But...he survives! How will their lives be changed? Rated M for language, some sexuality, and mature drug content.
1. Shock

**Some Background Information:**

**Degrassi is one of my all-time favorite shows. I absolutely adore the drama, romance, comedy… everything! It just really hits home for me, because it is so realistic. **

_**Rock This Town**_**, the episode where JT was killed, which aired in 2007, was actually one of the first episodes I ever saw of Degrassi. (Yes, I was a late starter!) I remember watching it, as the tears rolled down my face, and, as he got stabbed, I thought to myself **_**He won't die! He can't possibly die! Why would they kill off one of the most loved characters? **_**But sure enough, he died. I found myself really upset about it, wondering what would have happened if JT had survived to tell Liberty he loved her. So, basically, this is my interpretation of what could have happened. **

**Some disclaimers:**

**If, in any way, shape or form, it appears that I am altering a character's personality, I apologize. I am only human; I do not claim to be one of the writers of Degrassi. Frankly, I have no idea how each individual character would react to each individual scenario. I honestly am just using my own judgment and logic. **

**A request:**

**Sometime in the near future, I aspire to publish a novel that will make me famous. I wish to be the one that every other aspiring novelist will look up to. This is why I have written a fanfic. For one, it is really good practice. And two, I really appreciate constructive criticism. Anything you feel I should change let me know! Mind you, I may not always take that criticism to heart, but it is very beneficial for me as a writer to hear your opinion. So please, comment!**

**Lastly, thanks for reading my fanfic. I truly hope you enjoy. **

* * *

**_Every night in my dreams,  
I see you,  
I feel you  
That is how I know you  
Go on...  
We'll stay  
Forever this way,  
You are safe in my heart and,  
My heart will go on and on...  
- _Celine Dion, _My Heart Will Go On_**

* * *

_You are cordially invited_

_To the marriage of_

_**James Tiberius Yorke**_

_And_

_**Liberty Van Zandt**_

_Saturday, June 21__st_

_Twelve noon promptly_

_RSVP by June the third_

_I look at the beautiful invitation, which clearly demonstrates our love for each other. He told me he loves me._

_Yes, JT._

* * *

Admittedly, when he told me he loved Mia at my birthday party, I was pretty distraught. I truly didn't think I could love anyone ever again. I ran out, crying, thinking this night could not possibly get any worse than it was right then. I sat by a dumpster at the corner of Emma's block, waiting for my mother to pick me up. This night had turned into such a disaster. Then I heard a voice coming from a couple houses down.

"Dude, what the hell did you do?" The voice sounded scared. I recognized that voice… It was the guy who had given JT some trouble last year. Johnny DeMarco. But why did he sound so nervous? I ran to look, only to find him and another Lakehurst boy running past me. I looked at them running for a moment, wondering what they were running from. Then I turned to look at the car from where they had run. Slumped against the car was a figure, struggling to breathe.

I knew that figure.

It was JT.

I immediately dropped my bag and ran to his side, screaming for help. I took him into my arms and looked him over. That's when I saw it. The stab-wound in his back. It was deep. Blood gushed out of it in streams of red liquid. I wrapped my arms around him and rocked him against my body, screaming, "Somebody help! Please! Somebody!" The rest is a blur. The next thing I remember is standing in the Emergency Room, telling a policeman the identities of the two Lakehurst boys I had seen running away from the scene of the crime. I remember the doctor entering the room, asking for a family member, and Toby volunteered as such.

The doctor told us that JT's aorta had been punctured. "It's a main artery..." She had told us, shaking her head sadly. "If he is lucky, he'll survive the night."

My heart raced. I closed my eyes, trying to catch some clarity. Had she just said what I thought she said? _JT can't die! _I thought angrily, as bitter tears flowed down my face. I collapsed into a waiting-room chair, head in hands, as sobs shook my entire body. _He can't die! Not my JT! _I sensed my friends gathering around me, them crying as well.

_How could I have let this happen? It's all my fault for allowing Manny to talk me into having this stupid birthday party in the first place. I can't believe how idiotic I can be sometimes! I can't let him die…I _won't.

I rose from the chair slowly, as if in a trance. I stood in front of the doctor, with my face blotchy and red from crying, my throat raspy. "Please," I whispered, watching her face turn disbelieving as she realized what I was about to say. She began shaking her head slowly as I continued to beg quietly and hopelessly. "Please, _please_…. Just let me see him for one minute, I swear that's all I need." I swallowed with effort as she looked at my sadly, shaking her head.

"He's in very serious condition… Any disturbance would be hazardous for his health." She told me with a serene face. _What?? But you just said he's about to…about to…well, how could anything harm him more if his fate is already sealed?_

That's what I thought, but not what I said. I simply stared up at her, my eyes glistening with tears that overflowed and poured down my cheeks, and I whispered simply: "Please."

She bit her lip and closed her eyes, aggravated. Never had I begged this much, wanted something like this. Just to see his face once more, whisper sweet nothings in his ear, fall asleep laying beside him for the last time… It would give me the closure I would need.

Finally she opened her eyes, stared at me stonily for a moment, and nodded slowly. I looked at her gratefully as she told me the room number.

I walked slowly, but my strides were long. My heart was beating so loudly I could feel it pulsing in my ears. I edged toward the stairs slowly. The doctor had told me his room would be on the second floor. I glanced at each door once I'd reached the top of the steps, checking for the number.

Finally, somehow, I arrived. The brass knob felt cold against my skin, its color contrasting so distinctly to the dark brown of my hand. I felt as though my lungs were getting smaller, my chest constricting, not allowing the air I required to enter my body. I turned the door knob, opening the door slowly, my mouth clenching with anticipation.

What I saw there, lying in the bed, made my heart scream with torment. I felt as though my chest were being torn apart in all directions, stretching and ripping to its limit. The pain I felt right then is… Indescribable. The torture, guilt, anguish, sorrows… It was almost too much to bear.

But still, my feet carried me to the foot of the bed, and my eyes forced me to behold the unconscious form before me. The screen beside the bed told me that he was still breathing; his heart was still beating, but still I could not rid myself of the ache in my stomach. This was _my _JT… the only boy I had ever truly loved. The only one I had ever dated. I had had his baby!

What would have happened, I wondered as I stared down at the lifeless figure. What would have happened if we had kept the baby? Would JT have died? Would we have still broken up, would he have still fallen for Mia? It killed me to think of these what-ifs. I forced myself to stop.

I walked slowly over to where his head lays peacefully on the pillow. I knelt beside him, staring at his thin profile, his cheekbones, his lips. I felt a tear run down my face as I remembered how his lips felt against mine, and it made me wish to touch him, so I gently slid my hand down his cheek. It was cold. Instinctively I checked the TV screen beside the bed. It still told me his heart was beating. He was still alive, but barely.

What must it be like, for him? I wondered. Is it a dark world he now lives in, one that borders between life and death? What is he thinking? Is he wishing he could have made some changes before he dies? Is he thinking of me? Or Mia? I wished I could have read his mind right then. The expression on his face looked serene, but I wanted to know more. I had always wished I could delve into his mind, know the inner workings of it, what really goes on. I had always wished it could have been as easy as simply delving into a novel. But JT wasn't simple. He never had been.

My breath caught as I noticed him flinch slightly in his slumber. Was he having a nightmare about the horrible boys who had stabbed him, robbed him of his life? I felt a sudden rush of anger towards them, but when I took another glance at JT's face, which was once again so empty and pure, my anger disintegrated.

I glanced at the clock. The time was 3:45 AM. I had been there for almost an hour already. The time had flown so quickly, and I realized I was exhausted. I took a deep breath and, after glancing at the door to make sure nobody was watching, I stood, leaning over JT's body. I climbed onto the bed slowly, careful not to disturb his sleep. I sat up on my hands and knees, and leaned down to his lips.

A wave of electricity shot through me, my whole body shaking with nervousness as I placed my lips on his gently. I inhaled deeply as I kissed him, then leaned towards his ear to whisper, "I love you, JT. More than anything in the entire world. No matter what happens, I will always love you." I then scooted further down the bed so that my head was resting in the crook of his armpit, and I curled my legs into a ball. I fell asleep to the beeping of the machines in this small hospital room, on this small hospital bed, with the one person I loved next to me.

When I awoke the next morning, I was still beside him. My heart ached when I realized he was still unconscious. No miracles had occurred. My kiss had not caused him to suddenly awaken, alive and healthy. But he was still on the brink, still holding on. The TV screen showed that his heart was still beating, which was always good. I sighed as I snuggled up against him.

Suddenly the door burst open, and the doctor swooped in, looking furious. "How dare you stay in a patient's room overnight? You know very well it is not permissible unless you are a family member! Now… Get out of this room, young lady! I'll see to it that you are dealt with accordingly." I couldn't speak a word; I simply stared at her as she wrenched me from JT's arms unforgivingly. "I was trying to be kind and allow you to visit him, but I see that you are simply not to be trusted! You could be heavily fined for this, I assure you. But guess what, pretty girl? A man was just run over by a car. It appears that your little boyfriend is going to be…cut off." She stared at me stonily, allowing these words to sink in. My eyes became wide with disbelief.

"You- You wouldn't!" I stammered.

"Oh, but it is necessary. This man has just been run over by a car, he is in dire need of attention, and the rest of the rooms are taken. And seeing as young James here does not appear to be getting better, we must do what we must do. I'm afraid I need to remove him of his IV and oxygen tank." She now looked a little bit more kind and understanding, and her face told me that deep down she was sorry. But this didn't help. I just stared at her in shock.

"Over…my…dead…body!" I head a voice say. I turned around, eyes widening, to see JT emerging from his bed, yanking out the IV tubes one by one. He smiled that adorable smile of his, but I just stared at him, unable to believe that this was really happening. He opened his arms wide, invitingly, and I ran to him, hugging him with all my might, sobbing into his shoulders. The reality of it sank in. He was back. JT was not going to die. He was alive. "I love you," He whispered in my ear. "I always have, Liberty. I'm so sorry for all the pain I caused you. But now I'm back."

I bit my lip, overcome with joy and emotion, and kissed him hard on the lips, allowing it to use some tongue as he ran his hands down my back.

Yet, suddenly, I felt a pair of hands grab me by the waist and pull me backwards. I staggered with them, trying to stay standing, and I saw JT's eyes light up with anger. "What are you doing?" He demanded.

"That is no way to act when you've just been _stabbed_!" Yelled the doctor furiously. "Now, it's very good that you are alive, but I am going to require you to lay back down in that bed _immediately _before I call security!" JT raised his hands in surrender and lay back down.

"Happy?" He asked.

The doctor sighed, her face red with frustration. She strode over to him and began hooking up the IV tubes to his arm once more. "You-" She turned to me, pointing her finger at my face. "Get out of here."

And, still in a state of mild shock, I exited the hospital room. My life would never be the same.


	2. Mixed Emotions Ran Deep

_I continue to gaze at the invitation, my memories flowing together and forming one big blur of emotions. JT and I have, needless to say, been through a lot together. But we have fought the battles like the strong soldiers we are._

* * *

After that day at the hospital things were never the same. JT and I got back together, of course. Mia was really upset but, being the sweet, sensitive, caring guy JT is, he talked to her and explained it all. I thought she _still_ hated me, to be honest.

So anyways, things went by really quickly from then on. JT and I were really happy, despite the fact that Lakehurst joined with us. JT didn't hold a grudge against the school. The one boy who had stabbed him was facing a long stint in prison.

Those few months felt like a dream. I hardly knew what was happening; all I knew was that JT was alive, we were together, and nothing could ever take that away from us. I was on cloud nine.

Then, in March, JT proposed. It was really nice, the way he did it. He took me out to the fanciest restaurant in town. I'll bet he spent a month's worth of paychecks from the pharmacy to pay for that dinner. And, needless too say, it was lovely. Everything, from the white roses (my favorite flower), to the peach cobbler for dessert (my favorite dessert), was positively perfect. And when he took me out to the balcony, we saw a shooting star. Just as I closed my eyes to wish upon it, I felt JT slip something onto my finger. My eyes widened as I looked up at him.

He got down on one knee, holding my hand in his. "Liberty," He murmured. "Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

I didn't say anything; I merely felt sick to my stomach with happiness and shock. He stood up and put his hands on my face, looking into my eyes. "Liberty, will you marry me?"

My mind raced, all my plans for the future flying through it at a mile per second. If I married JT, how would I go to college? How would I get a degree and my dream job? But then I looked into his eyes, seeing the soft brown of them, the love I saw in them, and I knew everything was okay. "Yes," I whispered.

His face broke into a smile that reached from ear to ear, and he pulled me towards him to kiss me. "I promise you, Liberty, you won't regret this!"

I smiled at him, and in my mind I thought, _that better be true, JT Yorke. Don't go breaking my heart yet again. _I sighed and gazed into his eyes.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Three months later, we were married. It was a nice ceremony, in my backyard. Our closest friends and family attended. I was so happy on that day. Nothing could have brought me down.

At the reception, Emma came over to me and gestured for me to come somewhere with her. When we got into my room, she turned to me and put her hands on my shoulders. "Liberty, I've known you for a really long time. You know you can tell me anything." I nodded, looking at her confusedly. "Okay, so tell me this: _Why _exactly are you marrying JT?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Uh… Because I love him!"

She gave me an 'Emma Look'. "Come on, Liberty. You know I don't believe you, Liberty. You've never been a great liar." She smiled vaguely, and I swallowed hard. She stared at me through narrowed eyes for a few moments, as though trying to analyze me. "Liberty, are you marrying him just to prove something to yourself?" I shook my head sternly, but she continued with an eyebrow raised slightly. "If you're trying to prove to yourself that JT loves you, you don't need to. He does, I'm sure, but even so, Liberty: He broke your heart! Doesn't that make any difference to you whatsoever? Don't you remember how you felt, seeing him with Mia?"

Emma had always known how to make me uncomfortable. She also knew how to make me think. As I stood there facing her, I thought about my choice. Had I made the wrong decision, rushing into this so quickly? _Was_ I trying to prove something to myself?

"Liberty…" Emma awoke me from my thinking. "Are you trying to prove to yourself that…you can be loved?" I glanced down so she couldn't see the look in my eyes; the look of shame and self-pity. "Liberty!" she hissed. "You don't believe in yourself? You ability to be loved?" I looked away from her. She pulled my face back towards her. "Listen to me, Liberty. I don't care what decision you make, but you must know this: You are beautiful, intelligent, and devoted, and any man would be _lucky_ to have you, you hear me? Don't settle when you have options. Plus, honey, you're only eighteen! Can't you wait? Give it some time! If it's meant to be then it will happen. Don't rush things!"

I took a deep breath, refusing to meet her eyes. "Emma, JT is the only boy I have ever loved. And I'm going to do what I feel is best. I'm going to marry JT." Now I looked her straight in the eyes. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me." And with that I walked out of the house, back to the backyard, where my new husband was waiting for me. And it thrilled me to see him there, with love for me. It made me happy. And all I wanted was to be happy.

Two months later I awoke to nausea. I ran to the bathroom of my childhood home, where JT and I had been living since we had gotten married, and vomited into the toilet. I then vomited three more times. When I crawled back to bed, JT was leaning his head on his hand, looking at me nervously. "You okay, Lib?"

"Uh…Yeah, of course!" I stuttered, and lay down, gazing at the ceiling. I turned to JT, a faint smile on my face. He raised an eyebrow. "Hey, JT, remember when you gave me driving lessons?"

He grinned fondly at the memory. "Yeah, you were quite the animal behind the wheel! It was pretty hard to, ah, calm you down…" He leaned over to me and kissed me hard, whispering, "Let's do it, right here, right now."

I pushed him off me, no longer smiling. "JT, no! I'm being serious!"

He looked concerned. "Well, what is it?"

"Um…so… remember when you took over the wheel? When you were driving us to school…" He shrugged, as if to say, _sure, go on!_ "Well, remember what I told you? The thing that made you get in that accident?" His eyes widen. "Well, I think that little…thing…has happened again." I brace myself for his reaction, waiting to see what he'll say. He just sort of looked at me surprisedly, but then a grin appeared upon his face.

"I'm going to be a father…" He said, as though trying out the words, playing them in his mouth. "For real this time." He turned to me excitedly.

I sighed and turned over. How could I explain to him that I was scared to death? After what Emma had said to me at the wedding, I just couldn't seem to get the image out of my head. Of him leaving me. And turning to Mia. Again. How could I explain to him that I don't want my heart to be broken? And with a baby… That would just have been too much for me to handle. But then I turned back around, and the look on his face, of pure joy and excitement, shamed me. How could I do this to _him_? Here, I was the one not trusting. I was always being too controlling. Control-freak is what they would call me. And that's exactly what I was being right then. Why couldn't I just live in the moment? Was that too hard?

So I reached up and kissed him gently, then pulled back and looked into his eyes. "Whatever is good for you is good for me." I smiled at his reaction, which was to jump out of bed with an ecstatic look on his face, and scream, "Wahoo!" as I watched him, laughing. But then I pulled him back onto the bed and put my hand over his mouth, telling him to be quiet.

Now I looked at him with no longer thrilled eyes. Instead, they were telling him I was serious. "JT," I said sternly, still looking into his face with a stony expression. "There is one condition. You need to promise me… no, _swear_ to me that you will be a mature adult. No more telling Toby about our…sex life…" I shudder at that memory and continue. "And this time, I need you to get money to support us… the _legal_ way, JT." He glanced away for a moment, ashamed. I continued. "So, if you want this baby, then you need to do those things for me, okay?" He nodded, now serene. I shrugged and turned over, climbing out of the bed. It was time to find out if this baby was real.

I entered the hospital, the memories all flowing back to me of that night with JT, the one that changed my life. I started to wonder what would have happened if he had died. It hurt me to do so, but I did. I thought about who Mia could have ended up with, who _I_ would have ended up with, and I couldn't bear to picture myself with anyone else. I just wished that I could trust JT's loyalty. I wished I could.


	3. My real wish

**_I just want you to know,  
I found a reason for me,  
To change who I used to be,  
A reason to start over new,  
And the reason is you.  
I found a reason to show,  
The side of me you didn't know,  
A reason for all that I do,  
And the reason is you.  
- _Hoobastank, _The Reason_**

* * *

_I now shift a bit in my chair, the invitation crinkling slightly in my hand when I move. I look down at it with a certain sadness, remembering another time when I had been sitting in a chair similar to this one, feeling a sense of fear._

* * *

The doctor's room. The smell of latex and rubber and medicine. All so overpowering.

I needed to hold my breath. It reminded me too much of the night with JT. I looked around, at the other women in the room. Some were very young, way too young to be mothers. At the same time, others were very old, the kind that had a full life before ever even contemplating having children. Why, oh, why, had I let JT talk me into this? Condom-less sex was like walking to my execution, as a young girl of only eighteen. It meant that the rest of my life could never be the same. Every day I'd have to wake up with this baby, every night I would have to go to sleep with this baby. My life wouldn't circle around my career, but this baby. How could I have done this to myself at such an early age?

I needed to get an abortion. It was my only option. Oh, how the tables had turned. It felt like only yesterday I was pregnant the first time, so against having an abortion. But this time felt different. I could always get pregnant again, later in my life, when it wouldn't destroy all my plans for the future.

Wait.

I had to calm myself.

I had no idea, as of yet, that I was truly pregnant. It might not have been true. I could only hope that it was not.

Then I heard my name called, and I looked up to see the nurse awaiting me to follow her. I stood up and walked slowly behind her, entering the room to which she held open the door. She smiled at me kindly as I sat down. She took my blood pressure, temperature, had me pee in a cup… the whole nine yards. And then she told me the doctor would be in to see me shortly.

As soon as she slammed the door, my mind became a flaring combination of bursting colors, the thoughts flying through my head, the decisions burning a hole in my brain.

I took a deep breath.

And another.

And then I sat, waiting.

For what, I didn't know.

Was I waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel? The one that meant this baby didn't exist, and all was fine?

Did I really want to live happily ever after?

Was there truth in my wishes, or did I really wish to be a mother? Wouldn't I have enjoyed having someone to take care of? Wouldn't I have enjoyed that sense of responsibility?

Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. Perhaps this would draw JT and me even closer. Perhaps this would cause him to finally grow up, to finally gain control of himself. This responsibility could be good for us. And who said my dreams had to wait until the baby grew up? I could start college two months after it was born, if I wanted to! No one controlled my actions!

Now I still sat in the doctor's room, but this time with an air of excitement. I was pretty happy now, to be having a baby. It could have been really good for us.

I quietly entered the house later that night. I had been driving around the block for hours, just waiting for some clarity to come to me. I was feeling so many emotions at once.

The doctor had told me that I was not pregnant, just overworked. I needed to stop stressing out about every little detail, and just learn to accept the twists and turns in my life. I had walked out of there in total shock.

And now I was sitting in the living room, absentmindedly switching the channels on TV, not even noticing what was on the screen. I was so confused.

How could I have had a baby if I didn't even know what I wanted from life? My mind was constantly working, trying to figure out what was best. Maybe I should have just stopped.

I heard a noise, faint creaking of the floorboards, and I looked up. There, standing in the doorway, was JT. He immediately knew what had happened. He came to my side, so understanding, and held me while I cried. I didn't even know why I was crying, but the tears came out so fast I couldn't stop to think about it.

The next morning I awoke, still lying on the couch in JT's arms. He was sleeping so peacefully. I quickly slipped upstairs to take a shower and get dressed. When I came back down, JT was making pancakes in the kitchen. He smiled at me when I entered, and pointed at the frying pan, giving me the thumbs-up sign, as if to say, _how proud of me are you? _I grinned at him and went to wrap my arms around his waist, whispering "I love you" in his ear. I then kissed his cheek and went to sit down at the table.

That day I was going to change my life. JT was trying to hard to do that for himself, and I'd decided that that was exactly what I would do. I ate the pancakes quickly, thanked JT with a kiss, then grabbed the car-keys and got into my car.

First, I drove to the supermarket to buy some groceries. This was a good start to being responsible, a good preparation for motherhood. I bought baby food, pacifiers, and bottles. Just in case.

I then went over to the bookstore to apply for a job. Working with books had always been one of my areas of expertise, and the manager nodded at my resume approvingly. She smiled at me after the interview, telling me I had a good chance of being hired.

Finally, I stopped by at Victoria's Secret.

I grinned to myself as I got back in my car and began to drive towards my home. This day was proving very productive, I figured.

I got home and crept upstairs, considering it was very late. I tiptoed into my room, where I could hear JT's faint snoring. I rushed to the bathroom and changed into the beautiful silk nightgown I had bought that day. I examined myself in the mirror, loving the way it glided down my curves, and how the soft pink looked against my dark skin. I smiled at my reflection and exited the bathroom, climbing into bed.

I swiftly peeled the covers off his body, smiling down at his bare chest and goofy boxers, which he'd had since he was 12 years old, but had never gotten rid of. I slowly ran a finger down his chest, just reaching the waistband of his boxers. I grinned to myself, watching him shudder in his sleep, and pulled his boxers down slowly until I could see the thing which JT had always been so ashamed of, but I secretly loved. Once his boxers were off, I slid up so that our faces were adjacent, and kissed his lips. His eyes opened surprisedly. "Liberty?"

"Shhhh," I kissed him again, and he joined me, kissing back, not at all protesting. He pushed the straps of my nightgown off my shoulders, until it was completely off my body. And then all that could be heard was the springs of the bed underneath us, the soft moaning coming from our mouths.

* * *


	4. Perfection

**Wow, it's only been one day and already three reviews! Thank you so much for your input. I really appreciate it.**

**Just some responses:**

**I truly have no idea what goes on in a hospital. I never claimed that this was supposed to be realistic, or that I wished for it to be so. Thank God, my experiences in hospitals have been very few. So, thank you for your critique. I take it very seriously, but have no intention of changing my story to fit that. **

**Also, to anyone who liked my story, thank you! Keep reviewing! It puts a smile on my face to read the reviews, and knowing that I could keep someone interested at all makes me happy. **

**Thanks!**

* * *

_**Hush, love, I see a light in the sky, Oh,**_

_**It's almost blinding me,**_

_**I can't believe that I've been touched by an angel with love.**_

_**Let the rain come down and wash away my tears,**_

_**Let it fill my soul and drown my fears,**_

_**Let it shatter the walls for a new sun,**_

_**A new day has come.**_

**- Celine Dion, _A New Day Has Come_**

* * *

_I smile fondly at the memory, the moment when I allowed my husband to take me in, to breathe my air._

* * *

I awoke that morning, this time with a smile on my lips. So content with the world, wishing that moment could last forever. I turned over to find JT's eyes opened, staring back into mine. I smiled at him. He smiled back and kissed my lips ever-so-softly.

After a few moments, he whispered, "Good morning, sleeping beauty." I giggled, snaking my arms around his waist, pulling him closer, snuggling up against him.

It is blissful, this moment. A night of love with my husband, awaking to the sun rushing in through the window. It makes me happy. I feel like nothing can go wrong. If we just stay, here, forever, nothing will go wrong.

I sigh, grinning at him. He raised his eyebrow at me.

"JT," I whispered, breaking the silence, "I want to… I want to have a baby. With you."

He smiled and didn't say a word. He just kissed me. Finally, "I thought so, when I crawled out of bed earlier this morning and saw bags full of baby stuff. I ain't that dumb, you know."

I smiled, overjoyed. "I know. Why do you think I married you?"

He shrugged, looking away as though he was contemplating. I stifled a giggle as he mumbled, "Uh… well, I was _kinda_ hoping it was for my charmingly handsome rugged looks."

I laughed and kissed him, mumbling, "Okay, you got me. It was that too." I giggled as he nodded, winking.

He turned over, stretching, and muttered, "You know, I think we should get up. I have to get to work. Speaking of which," He turned to me with a suspicious smile on his face. "You, uh, got anything to tell me about that?"

I laughed, surprising myself. Normally, I'd have cared about this sort of thing. As in, JT finding out I got a job. But that day, nothing could bring me down from that carefree bliss. "How'd you know, JT?"

He grinned. "A little birdie. By the name of…Toby!"

"Toby? How'd he know?"

"He… _might_ have seen you at the bookstore walking into the manager's office. Please don't hit me!" He cringed, as though bracing himself for a slap. After a couple moments where I made no move showing an intention to hit him, he looked up and said, "Hey, what gives?"

"JT! I'm not going to slap you! It's fine, really, that Toby saw me! I was planning on telling you anyways." I smiled to show that it's okay.

"Alrighty then! So, did you get the job?"

"I don't know yet. They're supposed to call any minute now…" Just then the phone rang. I jumped out of bed to grab it, not caring that the window was wide open and I was…well, in my birthday suit, we will say. "Hello?" I answered excitedly, then listened for a moment before exclaiming, "Yay! Thank you!" and slamming the phone back on the dresser. I turned back to JT and screamed, "I got the job!" We embraced momentarily but I pulled back and hurried to get dressed. "Come on, baby, we need to leave in five minutes; I start today!"

Ten minutes later we were out on the road. JT dropped me off at my job, promising to pick me up at five exactly. I waved to him, then walked into the store, hearing the bells chiming as I entered. I smiled at the clerk, who waved me over to the counter.

"You must be the new employee," She guessed, smiling. I nodded. "Good. We've been looking to hire someone for _ages_. The manager here is really picky, so I'd assume you're pretty experienced!" I shrugged, smiling, as she looked me over. "But… you look really young. How old are you? Seventeen, eighteen?"

"Eighteen," I said quietly.

"Hmm…eighteen? Why would someone of your age be looking for a job?" I froze, not uttering a word, just staring at her. She raised her fingers to her eyes and massaged them, muttering, "I am sorry. It is none of my business." She held up her hands and began to walk behind the counter. "You know what? Forget I asked! Really!" I chuckled, relieved, and followed her behind the counter as she began to give me the 'New employee routine', as she called it. She explained to me how everything worked back there, and by the end of the day I was an expert.

A month passed. JT raised his eyebrows at me every morning when I exited the bathroom, as if to say, _well? _I always smiled mysteriously, as if to say, _nope! No period today! _I was already three weeks late, which was a good sign. I was so excited. I was going to be a mother! Technically I already was, but since I had to give that one up, I never got to experience the joy of raising a child.

Each day I went to work, as always. My co-worker, Shelley, was really sweet. She was twenty-four and had never gone to college. In truth, she was basically the epitome of what I turned out as in my worst nightmares. But I liked her. She had jet-black hair, cut boy-short and spiky. Her nose was pierced, as were her ears (numerous times). She had a tattoo of a butterfly on her lower back. I always had the urge to ask her about her past, and why she chose to work in a _bookstore, _of all places. But I didn't, because, for some reason, I didn't want her to know I was married, possibly with a child on the way. I don't know why, but that part of my life I wished to keep a secret.

This was a good month for me. I even got a raise! But in the back of my mind I knew: if everything was going so well, something had to give.


	5. A million pieces

_**I tear my heart open,  
**__**And I sew myself shut  
**__**My weakness is  
**__**That I care too much  
**__**And our scars remind us  
**__**That the past is real  
**__**I tear my heart open,  
**__**Just to feel.  
**_**- Papa Roach, _Scars_**

* * *

_I close my eyes as I remember that day. The day when everything went so wrong._

_Oh, so, wrong._

* * *

I awoke in a daze, my vision blurred. I stumbled to the bathroom, nausea overcoming me. I collapsed in a sudden rush of pain and discomfort. I felt wetness in my undergarments.

I pulled down my underwear, feeling a rush of warm liquid coming out of me. I gasped as I looked down to find blood all over the floor, gushing out like waterfalls. I screamed. JT came running into the bathroom, a cry of horror emerging from his lips. He fumblingly dialed 911, and ten minutes later I fainted in the ambulance, a pool of blood surrounding me, JT holding my hand, with tears streaming down his cheeks.

I awoke in a hospital room, my mind immediately going back to that night when JT almost… I couldn't bear to think of it. I gasped, trying to sit up. JT sat next to me, sleeping, but jerked up with a cry when he heard me. He looked at me for a moment, then grabbed me in an embrace so tight I could barely feel my arms. "Oh, thank goodness you're okay!" He cried, shaking, holding me.

I looked around, confused, at the machines and tubes that surrounded me. "What…what happened to me?"

"Liberty, you…you had a miscarriage."

If expressions could speak, mine would have been screaming. But all I could do was sit there in utter shock. So I _had _been pregnant. But my baby….my baby! It had been mercilessly ripped from my womb at the dawn of life. How could this happen to me? I wanted _so bad_ to be a mother! So this was what happens. I finally make a concrete decision about my life, and I get punished for it? How is that right?

So many thoughts were going through my head. I wanted to scream, tear the hair out of my head, cause myself pain, _anything_ to stop the mind-numbing emptiness I felt inside of me.

The car ride home was silent. I had been hospitalized for two days after "giving birth". My stomach hurt like hell and I wanted to die. All I could think about was that poor unborn baby.

Before we left, they asked us if we wanted the baby buried. We answered yes. They asked what we wanted to name it. After some thinking, I decided on Chris, because it could be a name for a boy or a girl. My dead child didn't need any identity crises in heaven.

What the hell was I thinking? I slapped myself on the forehead, trying to clear my thoughts. My mind was such a whirlwind of sporadic thoughts and feelings. I needed to be calm. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise.

But no. I had no belief in that anymore. Not after this. I didn't believe this was anywhere close to a blessing. It was a curse. Was it a punishment? I didn't even know. But I could not be honest to myself and say it was a blessing. Because it wasn't. It just wasn't.

I lay in bed that night, confused and in despair. I wanted to cry, but no tears emerged. I felt like throwing myself off a cliff, but somehow I just didn't have enough willpower to do that either.

I heard JT's faint snoring next to me. Of course he slept soundly. He wasn't the one who had gone through such pain and suffering, trying to give birth to a baby. He wasn't the one who had awoken with blood pouring out of his body. He wasn't the one who had been rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, only to find that the baby inside him couldn't survive. He wasn't the one who had had to watch the baby he'd just given birth to be buried. He just didn't understand my sorrow.

I groaned out loud. Why was I doing this? Why did I have to go and blame everyone else for my own problems? Why did I have to be this way? I just wanted to be good, normal, and carefree. Why couldn't I be like every other teenager? Did everything in my life have to be so damn complicated?

I couldn't take it anymore. I silently leaped out of bed, pulling on a sweatshirt. I tiptoed down the stairs and outside into the brisk night air. Five minutes later I knocked on a door. Emma answered, rubbing her eyes. She looked at me in disbelief.

"Liberty? It's two in the morning! What are you doing here so late? Where's JT?"

I didn't say a word, just collapsed into her arms, sobbing.

"Wow." Was all Emma would say. We were sitting on her couch in the living room. After crying into her arms for about ten minutes, I finally got up the strength to tell her the story. Everything. Some of the words came out with muffled sobs, but eventually she got the gist of what had happened. "Oh, Oh my God, Liberty." She shook her head sympathetically, repeating "Oh my God" several times.

"Please, Emma, say something else! _Anything _but that."

She looked at me, a certain sadness filling her eyes, and she whispered, "I'm sorry, Liberty. I am so, so sorry." Then the tears began to flow once more, and sadness swept over me. I fell into her arms once more, my body racked with sobs.

I fell asleep in her arms, crying, with Emma stroking my hair. It was so comforting for me, to have a girl there for me to talk to, for me to cry on.

By the time morning came around, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The relief was immense, but I still had no desire to go to work. Emma drove me home to a worried JT. I whispered "Thank you, Emma," and gave her a quick hug before running out of the car to my husband and explaining myself.

I called the store. Told them I wouldn't be working there anymore. It was just too painful for me. I didn't explain my reasoning to them. I just didn't have the strength or the will anymore.

Months passed. I spent my days either lying in bed staring at the ceiling, or lying on the couch staring at the TV. My life became an endless cycle of tears, depression, and paranoia. I felt as though my life was ending; like the walls were getting too close to me and I just needed to run before they crushed me. I felt so worthless. Like nothing in the world mattered. Most nights I didn't even want to _sleep_ with JT, let alone look at him. I made him sleep on the couch a lot of the time. He didn't mind. He probably had some comprehension of what I was going through.

Have you ever had the feeling when you just have no will to go on? When you just want to die, because that would be so much easier then dragging yourself back into the world, which you've come to see as a barren, hopeless wasteland? That's how I felt. Every day. Non-stop. I felt like I was being toyed with. That's it; God was playing with my feelings. I felt as though He was pushing me to the limit, seeing how far I could go before I finally snapped and cracked into a million pieces.

I wished I could do something with my life. Start over, make some changes. But I had no will left in me. I had succumbed to the demon inside me, the one that couldn't believe my life would ever be anything but perfect.

I was living in a hellhole.

Every day JT came home from work and came to my room to check on me. Every day his face was filled with the same sadness and helplessness. I knew he wanted so much to help me, but he couldn't. He just couldn't.


	6. My Biggest Fear

**So, lately, I've been trying, and failing, to distinguish between past and present tenses. This is because I am portraying the story through Liberty's eyes. Basically, she is telling the story "right now", but she is relating it to you in past tense. Even though I try to separate this with lines, it ends up getting confusing.  
So, to help clear things up, here is the code:  
****  
Anything that I am saying (Like what you are reading right now) will be in BOLD.  
All quotes will be in BOLD and ****_ITALICS.  
_Anything that Liberty is saying RIGHT NOW (in present tense) will be in plain **_ITALICS_.  
**Lastly, the actual story, meaning everything in past tense, will be **PLAIN TEXT.

**I hope this helps make things clearer.**

* * *

_**All my complaints shrink to nothing  
**__**I'm ashamed of all my somethings  
**__**She's glad for one day of comfort,  
**__**Only because she has suffered.  
**_**- Flyleaf, _Fully Alive_**

* * *

The hopelessness I had felt in the past few months was, to say the least, unreal.

But now I was finally ready to face the world.

My suffering was immense, but I would stick it out. I had to.

Slowly but surely I began restarting my life. I got up on time in the mornings, slept in my room with JT, got dressed, cooked meals. All the things a normal wife should do. I felt empty, still, but I learned to suck it up and move on. Sometimes things just happened that nobody understood. This was one of them.

I managed to emerge from the sorrow I'd been drowning in.

With help from JT, of course. His smiles every day kept me going.

One day he suggested I go to group therapy, to help me cope. At first I was angry. I wasn't some psychopath who needed "help"! But finally, after much persuading, I agreed to try it out.

JT dropped me off, that first night. It was nice outside. I hadn't been outside in such a long time. By now it was the end of autumn. The brisk evening air sent chills down my spine. I wrapped my jacket tighter around me and walked to the door. I walked straight up to the receptionist's desk, where I was told where to go. When I got to the room, I took a deep breath.

Calm, Liberty. Calm.

Some may consider calmness a virtue, you know. As do I. Unfortunately, calmness is one I rarely demonstrate.

I breathed, in and out. I stood outside the door, eyes closed. Finally I mustered up the courage to open it, and I walked into the room. There was a circle of chairs, each one holding another man or woman.

They all looked so old.

Their faces were hollow, sunken.

Underneath their eyes, deep bags that signified to me the sorrows they must have been through.

And suddenly, I felt very small.

Worthless.

The room was silent. All I could see were twenty pairs of eyes staring up at me. Were they waiting for me to speak? I didn't know.

All I knew was that I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. I needed to get out. I began to back away from them, but their haunting eyes followed me, pulled me back.

"Stay." They whispered, their menacing faces examining me, studying me. I heard a voice call, "Liberty!" and looked around to find Craig staring at me.

"Craig? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be famous?" he didn't answer. His eyes slowly began to bulge out of their sockets, his head started to twist around and around on his neck. The same happened to the rest of the people there.

They all began to foam at the mouth, crawling towards me slowly. I backed up until I hit something firm behind me. It was a wall. They had me cornered. I screamed, but no one heard me. No one came for me.

Then I noticed JT. He was there too. But then I wasn't in therapy anymore. I was standing by a car, in an empty street, with JT. Then I saw two boys, one with blonde hair and one with red hair. The redhead walked up to JT, and stabbed him with all his might. JT yelped, fell to the floor. The two other boys ran away, and I ran towards JT, screaming his name.

His head turned towards me jerkily. "Liberty," He groaned, his eyes popping out and foam pouring out of his mouth. I screamed.

And then I woke up.

I wasn't it group therapy, or in a street with JT.

I was in my bed, in my room, with my husband lying next to me.

My heart pounded. I was in a cold sweat. My breath came out in rushes of fearful air.

Slowly I began to calm down. The nightmare was over. I was okay.

I breathed deeply, closing my eyes. This just led me to a flashback of the dream. I opened my eyes and screamed, not realizing it was the middle of the night.

JT shot up next to me, confused. "Liberty? What… What happened? What time is it?"

I just turned to him, shaking, and leaned to rest my head on his chest. "Please don't leave me. Never leave me. Please!" I whispered into his chest, tears flowing down my cheeks.

"What? What's wrong, baby?" He asked as he ran his fingers through my matted hair, his voice just above a whisper.

I shook my head, unable to answer. After sobbing for a moment or two, I whispered, "Please just don't leave me. Promise me you won't. Promise me!"

He held me close to his chest, his hand contracting to clutch my head, and rocked me gently in his arms. "I won't, Lib. I won't. I swear." He murmured, still holding me. "Don't worry. Everything's going to be okay. Shhhhh…"

And we fell asleep like that. All my efforts had been crushed into oblivion, gone, with a single nightmare. But my heart couldn't handle the pain. I couldn't take it anymore.


	7. A Demonstration of Love

_**If I lay here,  
**__**If I just lay here,  
**__**Would you lie with me?  
**__**And just forget the world?  
**__**Forget what we're told,  
**__**Before we get too old,  
**__**Show me a garden that's bursting into life.  
**__**I don't know where,  
**__**Confused about how as well,  
**__**Just know that these things will never change for us at all.  
**__**All that I am,  
**__**All that I ever was,  
**__**Is here in your perfect arms  
**_**_They're all I can see.  
_- Snow Patrol, _Chasing Cars_**

* * *

_I still get the shivers when I remember that dream. I had been doing so well. How could I let this cause me to sink back down so low?_

But I did. I sunk right back down into depression. I went on medication, trying to save myself from this deep hole I had fallen into, but somehow I just couldn't. Nothing worked.

I refused to go to group therapy, of course. I was still too afraid.

So I continued. The same cycle I had tried so hard to get out of before, I got right back into. I was too afraid to face my fears, to face my decisions. It was just too hard.

Each day JT tried, so hard, to knock some sense into me. Each day he did something different. But one instance was really sweet. It truly stood out to me.

JT came home from work that day, and asked me to please come for a walk with him. I stubbornly refused. He couldn't convince me, no matter what he said. So he went upstairs. Twenty minutes later he called me up to my room. After some nagging, I reluctantly went up there.

What I saw was beautiful. The lights were off, but scented candles brought a dim, romantic glow to the room. The curtains were drawn and the bed was made. Music was playing softly in the background. Jazz. My favorite. I gasped at what my eyes beheld. It was magnificent.

But where was JT? I looked around, unable to find him. Suddenly he came out of the bathroom, dressed in…well, nothing. I smiled, looking down, my eyes sweeping over his body. I looked back up at his face. The sweet, innocent face, which so much resembled the picture of us in grade seven on my dresser. But now his face was older, more mature. His eyes had seen many things, things that no eighteen-year-old should ever see. I sighed as I realized how in love with him I was. I was really, truly, head-over-heels, madly in love with him. I always had been. Ever since the first time I had laid eyes upon him, I knew we were meant to be. I'd spent my life chasing him, and now he was finally mine.

He took a few steps toward me. My breath caught in my throat as he took my chin in his hand and kissed my lips, softly. I felt my body sink into him, yearning for more. How could he have such an effect on me? Why did I hunger for him, day and night, no matter how depressed I was? No matter how much I wished to wallow in self-pity, I always came back to him. Always.

He drew my chin upwards, so that my eyes stared into his, and my lips were barely a centimeter away from his. "Liberty Van Zandt, I know you've been through a lot lately. I know it's been hard for you. But I just want you to know, I love you. More than anything. Understand?" I nodded, tears in my eyes. He then gave me a look with narrow eyes, as though he was trying to…I don't know, figure me out or something. Then he murmured, "Oh, and one more thing." I looked at him expectantly, waiting. "I think you would look much better without those clothes." He raised an eyebrow at me, fingering the button on my oxford shirt. I grinned at him, his humor charming me once more, and kissed him, allowing him to unbutton my shirt.

I wore no bra underneath. His eyes flitted down and he sighed appreciatively, drawing me near to kiss him again. I gladly allowed this, my hands running down his bare body. My fingers knew all the crevices and curves. I smiled as my hand reached a particularly sensitive spot, and he let out a small groan, which I drowned out with my kiss.

He pulled me into the bathroom, all the while pulling off my shorts. I allowed my tongue to explore his mouth, while my hands wrapped around his waist. He pulled back from me for a moment, using one hand to turn on the shower. He laughed at my reaction, pulling me under the faucet as he kissed me. I giggled, the water just making me want him more. My breaths came out in short little gasps when he hit home. The moisture on my forehead became a mixture of water and sweat as I licked his collarbone.

Our breathing became faster and faster until we let out a simultaneous cry and then…

There was silence.

Nothing to be heard except for the running water. We were both soaked to the bone.

There we were. Husband and wife, once again. Finally.

Then, out of nowhere, JT broke the silence by letting out a burst of laughter. I followed, not knowing what was so funny. He picked me up in his arms after shutting off the faucet, and used his teeth to grab a towel off a hook on the wall.

He lay me down on the bed, naked and wet. But not wet for long. He took the towel out of his mouth and, instead of using it to dry me off, placed it under my head. He then commenced to do one of the sexiest things I'd ever had done to me.

He licked me clean. From head to toe. He licked my body until I wasn't dripping wet anymore. I moaned with pleasure as he tongue reached into places I hadn't even known it could reach, but I smiled the whole time. When his tongue finally reached my lips, he stopped. "How was that?"

I giggled. "Better than anything."

He smiled and caressed my cheek softly for a moment, then kissed me, and proceeded to give me an encore of what we had just experienced in the shower.

The next morning I awoke, next to my husband. I lay there for a moment, relaxed, but then I stood.

I had a mission; a purpose. I quickly got dressed in my most presentable business attire. I then hastily scribbled a note to JT telling him where I was going and that I loved him. I then kissed his cheek and left the note on my empty pillow.

I drove to the bookstore.

I heard the oh-so-familiar _ding_ as I entered, and saw Shelley looked up. She noticed me, and her eyebrows rose so high they almost touched her hairline. I smiled nervously, then walked quickly and purposefully over to the manager's office. Once granted admission, I entered, and told the manager everything. I then told her I wished to work there again. She looked at me for a moment, then commented that I would need to be more loyal this time. She couldn't just go hiring and firing people all the time. She needed reliable staff. I nodded vigorously, telling her that yes, I would be more than loyal. She smiled vaguely at me.

I exited the office, a smile on my face, and walked behind the counter to where Shelley was standing. I began to sort the pre-ordered books, my breath held steady. She just looked at me for a moment, and then continued to do her work. No questions asked. That made me happy. I exhaled, relieved, and followed her lead, continuing my work as well.

* * *


	8. We Meet Again

_**Everything's so blurry,  
**__**And everyone's so fake  
**__**Everybody's empty  
**__**And everything is so messed up  
**__**Preoccupied without you,  
**__**I cannot live at all  
**__**My whole world surrounds you.  
**__**I stumble then I crawl.  
**__**You could be my someone,  
**__**You could be my sea  
**__**You know that I'll protect you  
**__**From all of the obscene  
**__**I wonder what you're doing,  
**__**Imagine where you are,  
**__**There's oceans in between us,  
**_**_But that's not very far.  
_- Puddle of Mudd, _Blurry_**

* * *

I continued to work diligently at the bookstore, ignoring the now dull nagging feeling inside me. I refused to allow myself to sink into depression again. All I did was work, eat, sleep, and occasionally talk with JT at night. Other than that we both just lived through our daily routine.

One day I stood at a shelf in the store, sorting books. I heard a small voice, and then a little boy, about two or three years old, came running up to me. I smiled at him, put down my books, and said, "Hello, what's your name, little guy?"

He looked at me, grinning from ear-to-ear, and said the one word that changed my life forever: "James."

I froze, staring at him, my mind going somewhere cold and unforgiving. James? But… but how? All I could do was sit there, my mind and heart racing. This wasn't possible; they lived in the States!

No. I was dreaming. That was all. I was dreaming. I closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them it would all just be a dream. But the little boy was still standing there, hands clasped behind his back, swaying gently, an enormous grin on his face. Then he took out a small toy dinosaur skeleton. He tipped his head slightly to the side, looking at me from an angle, and said rambunctiously, "Will you be my friend?" I gasped; this was far from a dream. This was James. James! Oh my god. I needed to breathe, that was all. Just to breathe.

And then I looked into his eyes. He had these soft brown eyes, ones I knew very well. Those eyes were so familiar to me. It just reinforced my certainty that this was him.

Suddenly a woman came in, perhaps in her early thirties. She took a glance at me, her eyes widening. And her face…I knew her, of course. I remembered her. Sure, the last time I'd seen her, my eyes had been flooded with tears. But I knew her. So well. I knew who she was.

She hastily grabbed the boy by the hand and briskly turned, walking towards the door, leaving me sitting in a daze.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, running after her. "Wait, please! Please, wait!" She kept walking swiftly, her long strides taking her farther and farther away from me. "No! Come back! Please! I just want to talk!" I screamed, still running. By now she had the boy in her arms and was carrying him through the streets. I ran, flinging my body towards her, catching up to her. Finally she ran out of breath and began to slow down. I caught up to her, my breathing labored. "Mrs. Smith," I cried, no breath left.

She turned around with frightened eyes, and began to walk away again. "No, wait! I just want to talk. Please. I have a right, you know." She sighed, looking away. The little boy in her arms smiled at me, his eyes crinkling. I smiled sadly back at him, my heart wrenching.

"Okay," she whispered.

Ten minutes later we sat in the local coffee shop. I had called Shelley and asked her to fill in for me while I was gone. Now we sat there, facing one another.

"You know, I never meant to hurt you." She said in a low voice.

"I know," I replied. We didn't meet each other's eyes. The boy had fallen asleep in his stroller. I glanced down at him, smiling. "What did you name him?"

"Samuel," She whispered. "We named him Samuel."

"That's a beautiful name." I said in a choked voice. _Why not James, though_? "Good choice."

"Thank you." An awkward silence ensued.

"You promised me I could visit." I murmured suddenly.

"I know,"

"So why didn't you keep that promise? Why did you have to cause me so much pain?" It hurt my throat to talk; I was holding back the tears.

"I'm sorry. We just didn't think it would be good for you."

I looked away from the table, avoiding her eyes. I let mine rest on the menu behind the counter. "What you did to me was even worse." I whispered.

"I know."

I took a deep breath, then looked straight into her eyes. "Then why are you back now, huh? After all these years?"

She shrugged, looking away as though it hurt her to look into my eyes. The eyes that her son had inherited.

"Please answer me," I whispered pleadingly.

She breathed deeply. "I didn't want you getting hurt. The past few years have been wonderful for us, raising Sammy." She gestured to the boy. "But recently, my husband has… fallen ill. The doctor told us that the best treatment we'd find would be here, in Toronto." She looked back at me. "I didn't want you to have to run into me."

I raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "How ironic. Fate has brought us together once more."

She nodded, looking away. After a few moments, she stood up abruptly. "I have to go."

"But wait! Can't we talk some more?" I wanted to continue to look into the little boy's eyes, see his beautiful features for a little bit longer.

"Liberty, I'm sorry. But I don't want my son to have any contact with you. At all. It would be much too confusing and frustrating for him, and I just refuse to do that to him. I'm sorry." And with that Mrs. Smith walked out of the small coffee shop, leaving me cold and upset.

Why did I feel this way? Wasn't it I who had willingly given her what she now had over me? I had given it up. The one thing in my life that had felt so wrong at first, but then felt so right. I had given it to her. She had a right not to give it back, didn't she? Then why was I so angry with her?

Because she had one thing I didn't have.

And that was my son.

* * *


	9. No Regrets

_**For the life of me,  
**__**I cannot remember  
**__**What made us think that we were wise  
**__**And we'd never compromise  
**__**For the life of me,  
**__**I cannot believe  
**__**We'd ever die for these sins  
**_**_We were merely freshmen.  
_- The Verve Pipe, _The Freshmen_**

_**Ever since you found yourself in someone else's arms,  
**__**I've been trying my best to get along.  
**__**But that's okay  
**__**There's nothing left to say cause…  
**__**In fact I'd feel a whole lot better,  
**_**_If you'll think of me.  
_- Keith Urban, _You'll Think of Me_**

* * *

_Okay. I'll explain._

* * *

JT and I were steadily going out. I was fifteen. During the summer, we had a lot of sex, and… JT overestimated the size of his… member.

Basically, the condom slipped off, and I got pregnant.

So there we were, two teenagers, with a baby coming. Obviously, we had a lot of decisions. After many obstacles, including JT's attempted suicide, we managed to make a very difficult decision.

We put our baby up for adoption.

And we gave him to a family from the States, the Smith family. Never to see our baby again.

However, although we technically weren't his parents anymore, he was still sentimental for us, so we gave him a name. James.

This leads us back to the little boy and his mother I had seen that day. It was James. And Mrs. Smith.

Only, she and her husband had given him a different name. Samuel. This caused my heart to break. Obviously, we had named him James after his father. It hurt me to see my baby in the arms of another woman, being raised, happily, not knowing he had another mother living far away.

At first, I was under the impression that I would be able to see little James at regular visits, but this was obviously not what the Smiths wanted. They had refused to allow my visit, causing me much pain, sorrow, and grief.

But now, the Smiths were here. In Toronto. For how long, they didn't know. This meant I would have to see James. Right?

I sighed as I turned the keys in the door that night, the image of James still imprinted in my mind. JT was already home, sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper. He looked up, immediately able to tell something was wrong. "What happened?" he asked, frowning.

"I saw him, JT." I whispered.

He froze, looking at me strangely. "Saw…_who?_"

I swallowed, a lump in my throat. "James," I managed to squeak.

He raised an eyebrow. "Was this… a dream? Are you feeling okay, honey?" He stood up, pulling me towards the couch so I could sit next to him. He rubbed my back gently in circular motions.

"I swear, JT, I wasn't imagining it."

"Um… Are you sure it was him?"

I turned to face him, sure he was patronizing me. "JT, I freaking _talked _to Mrs. Smith. We had a freaking _conversation. _I know it was him."

He looked disconcerted. "Why are they here?"

I shrugged. "Mr. Smith is ill. They came here for treatment." I sighed, exasperated. "JT, I _need_ to see him again. I just have to!"

He continued to rub my back, talking to me as though I was a small child. "Relax, Liberty. Listen to me," He pulled up my chin so our eyes could meet. "When we put James up for adoption, we promised each other we would have no regrets. No turning back. You _cannot_ see him. You understand? It would be too hard. Forget about James."

"Samuel." I whispered, looking down at my lap.

"What?"

"Samuel." I looked up at him, tears glistening in my eyes. "They named him Samuel."

I saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. I noticed hurt flash in his eyes quickly, and then pass. "Liberty," he said carefully, "He's _their_ son. They can… they can name him whatever they want." He said this, but I knew he didn't mean it. I knew how hurt he was. He refused to look at me when he spoke.

I sighed and looked away. I felt his hand resting gently on my thigh.

"Please listen to me, Lib."

I didn't do anything for a moment, just stared at the wall opposite me. Then, without warning, the tears came. Tears of remorse, anger, and hurt. I leaned into his open arms, my head in my hands, my shoulders shaking. "I- I- I just want to be his mother again!" I wailed.

"I know, babe." He murmured into my ear, stroking my hair. "I know."


	10. The Bigger She Is, The Harder She Falls

**_I'm going under,  
Drowning you.  
I'm falling forever,  
I've got to break through!...  
I've got to breathe  
_****_I can't keep going under.  
-_ Evanescence, _Going Under_**

* * *

So, I had to pretend life was still the same. I still went to work, as usual, every day. I still came home, as usual, every night.

And I didn't see James or Mrs. Smith. For a while.

A couple of weeks later, around twelve in the night, I heard a knock at the door. JT and I were sitting on the couch in our pajamas, watching a movie. I got up and turned on the hallway light, rubbing my eyes from the brightness.

I opened the door to Mrs. Smith. She was crying. Well, sobbing, really. "Mrs. Smith? What…What's wrong?" I led her into the living room and allowed her to sit down next to JT, who immediately shut the TV with an alarmed look on his face.

"He…he's gone!" She wailed, shaking with the sobs. My heart caught in my throat.

"Who- Who's gone?" I asked carefully, my voice just above a whisper.

"Jo- John!" She screeched, hiccupping, the tears flowing like waterfalls.

I looked at JT, mouthing "John?" He shrugged, with wide eyes.

Mrs. Smith lifted her head, able to tell from our expressions that we both did not know who John was. "John! My… my… _late_ husband!" And then she began to wail again.

"Oh, my God." I whispered. JT's eyes practically bugged out of their sockets, his face a mixture of shock and horror.

"The-the-the treatment didn't work!" she stuttered, hiccupping again.

As much as I had a bit of a vendetta against this woman, I really felt sorry for her. She didn't deserve for her husband to die; no one did.

Suddenly a thought hit me. "Mrs. Smith, where's Jame- Samuel?"

"In-in-in the car!" she muttered into her hands.

"He's in the car?!" I asked, disgusted, but then realized she must have a lot of other things on her mind then. I slowly got up, eyebrows raised, and went out to the car. In there I found James, bawling in his car seat. "Aww, Jamesy," I whispered, unbuckling him and lifting him into my arms. "It's okay now. Mommy…I mean, Liberty's here now."

He looked at me for a second, his face red from tears, and I murmured to him, "What's wrong?"

"Mommy left me," Was all he said, and it almost tore my heart straight out of my chest. No matter how distraught Mrs. Smith was, she couldn't just leave her son in the car!

I sighed, looked him in the eye and said, "I love you, James Toby Yorke." He looked at me; his eyes still wet from tears, and leaned his head on my shoulder. I felt his body relax against mine, and felt tears come to my eyes. He knew his Mama.

I took him inside the house, taking deep breaths. Mrs. Smith still sat on the couch, her body shaking. I gave JT a "raised-eyebrow" look, meaning, "What are we going to do with her?" He answered me with a look that said, "I have no clue! Help!"

I sighed and walked over to JT, handing him James, who had fallen asleep in my arms. I went over to Mrs. Smith, placing a hand on her bony shoulder blade. The mere feel of her shoulder was enough to make me uncomfortable. "Mrs. Smith," I began hesitantly. She looked up at me with bloodshot eyes. "Would you like to spend the night here?" She smiled gratefully, as though this was the most gracious act ever done for her, and nodded. I brought down a pillow and blanket for her, and she fell asleep instantly, forgetting about her small son who was now sleeping in my husband's arms.

We walked up the stairs, James now being held by me. I shifted his weight in my arms as we entered the room, and lay him down on the bed. I then sat down on the edge next to him, staring at the wall with a stony expression. "How could she do this?" I whispered.

I felt JT's hand on my shoulder. I stiffened. "I can't believe she would do this. She has no right. Just because her life is shitty doesn't give her a right to ruin James'." I glanced at the sleeping child next to me.

"I know, Liberty. But sometimes… sometimes people do bad things. Even the best of us."

I glanced back at him, eyebrow raised, but then sighed. "Well, I guess we'd better get to sleep. It's pretty late." I lay down on top of the covers, next to James, and JT lay down on the other side of him.

A scream in the middle of the night awoke me. I shot up, glancing around quickly. "What- what?"

I saw James sitting up, crying. JT sat next to him, rubbing his eyes. He had, evidently, been woken up as well. I hesitantly put an arm around James' shoulders, pulling him closer to me. "What's wrong, honey?" I whispered in the dark.

"Nightmare," He whispered back.

"Nightmare? I glanced at JT nervously. "About what?"

"Mommy."

My heart skipped a beat. "You had a nightmare…about your mommy?" He nodded, sniffling. "Okay…what happened in your dream?"

He looked up at me; his big brown eyes filled with tears, and said, "Mommy died."

I gasped, struggling to regain composure. "How- how did your mommy die?" I whispered carefully.

"She took too much medicine." He said, looking between me and JT.

"She- took- too- much- medicine?" I repeated, my mind filling with furious accusations for this woman. I looked at JT with wide eyes. "James- I mean, Samuel, did this kind of thing happen in… in real life?"

He nodded sadly, almost knowingly. I froze, looking at JT for support. "Uh…" he stuttered. "Maybe… maybe we should all go to sleep, okay? How about that?"

I nodded, shifting so that I was lying down once more. So did JT. But James just sat there, looking down at me. I sighed, sitting back up. "What's wrong, Jamesy?"

"Can- can you hold me?" He murmured slowly.

My eyes filled with tears as I whispered, "Of course, baby."

And with that I took him into my arms, lying down. I rocked him to sleep gently, humming a lullaby my mother used to sing to me.


	11. Some People Are Dumber Than They Look

_**Long lost words whisper slowly,  
**__**To me.  
**__**Still can't find what keeps me here.  
**__**When all this time I've been so hollow,  
**__**Inside.  
**__**I know you're still there.  
**_**- Evanescence, **_**Haunted**_

* * *

We awoke to James jumping on the bed, screaming at the top of his voice, "MAMA CALLED THE DOCTOR AND THE DOCTOR SAID: NO MORE MONKEYS JUMPING ON THE BED!" I glanced at JT with wide eyes, and he pulled the boy down next to us.

"Honey, don't do that. It's not polite to wake people up by jumping on the bed!" JT scolded him sternly, but I could tell from the look in his eyes that he didn't mean it. He felt the same way I did.

Thrilled, to be scolding... our _son_. Excited, to be looking into the eyes of... our _son. _And scared, frightened at what this poor boy was likely to have seen in his short life. I sighed as I watched father and son looking at each other with love and care.

JT lost his sterness, and simply kissed the boy on the forehead, unable to say more. He smiled and set him down in between us. I pulled James toward me in a brief embrace, and then I swung my legs off the bed. "Breakfast time for my two favorite boys!" I squealed happily.

I raced down the stairs, eager to spend my first day with James, when I stopped short. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest at the form i saw laying on the couch. I gasped, shocked for a moment, but then I relaxed. It was merely Mrs. Smith, sleeping soundly on our couch. I _had_, after all, been the one to invite her the night before. The least I could do was ask her if she wanted breakfast.

I tiptoed up to her and kneeled down so my face was adjacent to hers. "Mrs. Smith?" I whispered. "Wake up, it's breakfast time!" I said a little bit louder. "Mrs. Smith?" I repeated, frowning. I lightly tapped her wrist, gradually increasing in pressure. "Mrs. Smith!" I yelled, knowing now that something was not at all right. "Hello? Please wake up, please!" I pulled her up by the shoulders. Her head flopped gently to the left, her eyes remaining closed. "Oh, my god." I whispered, running to get the phone. I dialed 911 as I ran up the stairs to alert JT.

I burst into the room, frantic. JT looked at me and his eyes widened, instantly knowing something was wrong. I opened my mouth to tell him what was happening, but immediately closed it when I glanced at James. "Stay here." was all I said, and JT nodded slowly. Then I ran back down the stairs to the couch, where the woman was still lying, unconscious.

Five minutes later the ambulance rushed to the scene. I went to the hospital with Mrs. Smith, not caring that I was still in my pajamas: shorts and a T-shirt. But it didn't matter. It didn't even matter how much I disliked this woman. All that mattered was the innocent life at stake, and I would do anything to save it.

I sat in the waiting room for what seemed like eternity, head in hands. There was only one other person there with me; a young man, his premature gray hair peeking out of his baseball hat. I glanced at him every once in a while, wondering why he was there.

At one point my cell phone rang. It was JT, asking where I was and what was going on. I told him what had happened. He wished me luck and we hung up.

"Miss Van Zandt?" I looked up to find a nurse looking at me with a cocked head.

"Yes?" I asked, standing up and smoothing the creases in my shorts. "How is she?"

The nurse sighed. "Well, you are certainly lucky you made it here in time, or she wouldn't be alive right now. She's doing okay, though. Slowly recuperating."

"What- what happened to her?"

"Drug overdose." She shook her head pitifully. "It's horrible. I see cases like this every day. I assume you know that just two days ago her husband passed away in this very hospital?" I nodded. "I tended to him too. I'm sure this is one of the reasons she did this. Suicide attempts are quite common in women who were recently widowed." She lowered her head to look into my eyes. "You saved her life, you know. She could have died, if you hadn't gotten her here in time."

I shrugged, looking down. "Do you think I could...see her?" I asked quietly.

"Certainly. I think her condition is stable enough that she can handle visitors. And don't worry; I am completely sure that she will make a full recovery."

I nodded and followed her down the hall to a room with a sign on it that read: "Mrs. Jane Smith". I took a deep breath and smiled at the nurse, then entered the room.

She was asleep in the bed, and remained that way as I shut the door and quietly walked towards her, sighing. I sat down in the chair hesitantly, staring at her. Suddenly her eyes opened and she gazed at me. Her eyes were red around the pupils, from the medication. Her face was pale and her mouth was stretched taught.

"Don't think less of me for doing this." She whispered suddenly.

I shook my head, keeping a stoic expression on my face. "You're sick," I finally managed to breathe.

She turned over onto her back staring up at the ceiling, nodding. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Is that all you can say? I _saved your life!_ You could have died! Do you realize that? You think one parent dead isn't enough for you son? You think the other one dead would even the score?"

She turned to look at me with such a look of sadness on her face, it almost tore down my walls I had put up inside me. But it didn't.

"I didn't mean to cause any harm." She murmured, her eyes glistening with tears.

I shook my head disgustedly. "Yeah, well you did. You really did." I looked away. "Do you know the kind of pain your- _my_ son feels because of your antics?" She didn't say anything. "He wakes up in the middle of the night from nightmares about you _dying_. What kind of child needs to fear his parents dying? Especially at three years old! You- you can't just go around being stupid and not expect any reprecussions to come from it!" I was breathing hard. I looked down at my hands, which I had unconsciously balled into fists. I uncurled them, noticing the nail marks in my palms from the clenching of my hands. I rose from the chair, my face hard.

"Don't come back to my house when you're released. Don't expect to get your son back either, because you won't. My lawyer will be calling you concerning custody of James." She turned to me, tears rolling down her cheeks at the mention of her son.

"Please!" She whispered. "Don't take him from me! He's all I have left!" She sat there sobbing. I didn't make any movement to comfort her.

"Please, _Jane_. Don't bullshit me. I'm no idiot." She looked at me in horror at my words, still sobbing uncontrolably. I chuckled, my voice dripping with irony. "You fucked up, Jane. You really fucked up." She began to scream, her body shaking with sobs. She struggled to get out of her bed, falling to the floor as she did so. She crawled towards me, grabbing onto my legs. My expression turned into one of disgust as I lowered myself to meet her eye level. I shrugged, shaking my head, as I murmured quietly, "I'm going to get my son back. So I guess I kind of owe you a thank-you. Thanks for screwing up your life, Mrs. Smith. Because it sure as hell's going to make mine better. I got my baby back!" And with that, I stood, leaving her on the ground as I exited the room with a satisfied grin on my face and a raised eyebrow.

Part of me felt guilty for the stinging remarks I had made to her back there, but the other part of me shooed those thoughts away.

Yet, as I walked out in the hallway, I couldn't help but notice that the person turning the corner a few feet away had gray hair which was peeking out of a baseball hat.


	12. Fighting For What You Want

**Hey everybody! Remember to keep reviewing!  
Okay, just wanted to put that in for all of you! :-D  
If you have any suggestions, just let me know! I love hearing from my readers and I want to make this the best it can be so talk to me!  
Oh, and by the way, I'm sorry it's been so dramatic lately. I don't know if you guys like that or anything, but I'm sorta the kind of person who LOVES to write that way, so there you go! **

* * *

**_I drift away to a place,  
Another kind of life.  
Take away the pain,  
I create my paradise.  
Everything I've held has hit the wall,  
What used to be yours isn't yours at all.  
Falling apart,  
And all that I'm asking  
Is it a crime?  
Am I overreacting?  
_- Alexz Johnson, _Skin_**

* * *

I entered my house with clenched teeth, thoughts racing through my mind. What had I done? Did _anyone_ deserve that kind of treatment, especially the pseudo-mother of my child? Rubbing my eyes, I entered the kitchen.

"Mommy?" I heard a small voice call. I opened my eyes to find James eating cereal at the table from a mickey mouse bowl (which I'd had since I was six years old). I smiled faintly at him. "Where's my mommy?" He whispered, looking at me uncomfortably.

I frowned, the correct words going MIA from my mind. I took a deep breath, but then something registered to me. Where was JT? I let out an unintentional groan. Could no one be trusted? Was _he_ abandoning my child as well? I swore mentally as I walked over to the table, dropping my purse and sitting down next to him.

"Jamesy," I began hesitantly, trying to find a way to describe what was happening to his mother right then. "Your mommy-"

"Is going away for a couple of days." A voice interrupted, and I looked over my shoulder to find JT emerging from the bathroom. My shoulders sagged in hatred for myself. Why couldn't I trust _anyone?_ I was such an idiot. I slapped myself on the forehead to prove my point.

I turned back to James, who had a satisfied expression on his face and was nodding approvingly. "Oh," he said simply, and returned to concentrating on his Cheerios.

I felt a hand land on my shoulder, and JT whispered in my ear, "Can I talk to you in the other room?" I nodded, and followed him into the living room. "What happened at the hospital?" He asked cautiously.

I gave him a pointed look which described my feelings on the matter. "Drug overdose." I saw his shocked reaction, which combined with a look of guilt. I knew he was remembering a similar incident _he _had experienced in the past. I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. "I'm sorry."

"For what? It's not your fault I did what I did."

"For.. for the way I treated her." My words came out in a choked sob. "For what I said to her! I was so horrible, so selfish. It didn't even cross my mind that the same thing happened with you! I'm so sorry." I collapsed into his arms, guilty sobs emerging from my shaking body. "I'm such an idiot!" I wailed.

"Liberty?" I heard a familiar voice call. It was James, standing by the doorway. I froze, looking up at JT and back at my son, swallowing hard.

"Uh... I was just crying because I..." I began, fumbling for an excuse. I stared up at JT with desperate wide eyes.

"She... stubbed her toe." He filled in for me. I glanced over at James, who shrugged and returned to the kitchen. I closed my eyes. Being an actual mother would be a little harder than it looked.

JT broke the relief-filled silence, gently pushing me off him as he stood up. "Sorry, Lib, but I stayed here as long as I could... Got to get to work, you know."

_Work! Damn! _"Oh, no!" I whined, rolling my eyes in exasperation. "I completely forgot about work! Gahh!" I reached for the telephone, preparing to call the bookstore. JT chuckled at my frazzled brain and pulled the phone from my hand gently.

"Don't worry, babe, I've got everything under control. I called them this morning and said you'd be requesting a couple weeks of paid vacation."

I let out a sigh of relief and lay back on the couch. "Thanks, JT." I said sincerely. "What would I do without you?"

"Well, for one, you'd be seriously...deprived." He grinned and kissed me on the cheek as he stood and walked to the door. He turned to me one last time, a sympathetic look on his face. "I'll call to check up on you. You'll be okay, won't you?"

I nodded, waving to him as he exited the house, shutting the door behind him. I stood, pacing to the kitchen. There, sitting at the table, still eating his cereal, was James. "Hey, babe," I said quietly, trying to sound happy. He looked up from the bowl.

"Hi, Miss Liberty." He replied, his big brown eyes staring up at me.

"What do you say we go for a ride, cutie?" I asked, ruffling his hair.

"Okay."

Twenty minutes later we pulled up in front of my lawyer's office. We walked through the door together, me holding James' hand. The receptionist looked up, smiling politely. "May I help you?" She said sweetly.

"Yes, hello, my name is Liberty Van Zandt. I'm a client of Mr. Phillips'."

She nodded, still smiling through her bright red lipstick, and hit a button on the switchboard in front of her. "Mr. Phillips?" She said into the speaker. "A Miss Van Zandt is here to see you. Shall I send her in? Okay, sir. Thank you." She looked up at me and nodded. "Go ahead in; it's the first door on your left."

"Thank you," I hastily pulled James into the office, closing the door behind me.

A small, pale man with little brown hair on his head, but plenty on his chin, and was sitting at his desk, looked up at me. "Ah, Miss Van Zandt." He smiled, resting his chin on his clasped hands. "Come in, come in!" He waved me to the seat facing him, and I obliged, allowing James to sit on my lap. "So, Liberty, what can I do for you today?" He noticed James on my lap and smiled, his eyes crinkling slightly. "And who is this little boy?"

"He's actually the reason I am here today." I answered, and saw him raise an eyebrow. "You see, his name is James Van Zandt-Yorke. But you may recall him as Samuel Smith." And I smiled vaguely with satisfaction at the look of surprise on Mr. Phillips' face.

"Sammy?" He whispered. "How did you get ahold of him? Liberty, you could be in serious trouble. This is against their wishes. He was not supposed to know you!" He began opening drawers, pulling out a file labeled VAN ZANDT. He opened it, flipping through pages while talking. "Oh, this is bad, this is very bad-"

"His father is dead." I interrupted him. He looked up surprisedly. I continued. "His mother attempted suicide last night by means of drug overdose. She is in the hospital as we speak, thanks to me."

"My God," he muttered, running his hands through what was left of his hair.

"It appears to me, as I'm sure you will agree, that she is not the most perfect candidate for the mother of my child." He nodded. "So, I would like to bring her to court."

He sighed with exhasperation. "Liberty, Liberty, you can't do that!" He exclaimed. "You can't just waltz into the courtroom and request custody of James- I mean, Sammy!"

"Why not?" I asked angrily.

"Because, sweetie, you signed a contract claiming that you give full custody and guardianship of your child to the Smiths." His voice was quiet and sympathetic as he looked down at me. "And now that you've decided that you want him back, it doesn't give you the right to just take him!"

"But- but Mr. Phillips! She's a drug addict! She isn't a suitable guardian for my son!"

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Liberty, that's not for you to decide." He looked into my eyes carefully. "It's for the court and the court alone."

"Then let the court decide!" I screamed, close to tears, forgetting for a moment that James was in my lap, subject to this arguing. I took a deep breath, calming myself. "Please," I whispered desperately.

He chewed on his lip, pondering. "Okay," he said finally. "I will _request_ a court date." I smiled, my heart skipping a beat. "But-" He interjected, "If the court says no, then the court says no. And there won't be anything you, nor I, can do."

I closed my eyes trying to keep the tears from escaping. "Thank you," I whispered.

* * *


	13. Decisions, Decisions

**Hey everyone!  
So I just have a quick little heads-up for all of you... Chapter 11, "Some People Are Dumber Than They Look", has been edited. If you don't want to read the entire chapter, simply scroll down to the part where Liberty is in the waiting room and you will see what I'm talking about. I also added another part at the very end of the chapter. If you're wondering what all this is about, then trust me, you'll find out soon enough!  
Keep reading and Reviewing! ;)**

* * *

**_You used to captivate me  
By your resonating light.  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind.  
Your face it haunts  
My once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away  
All the sanity in me  
These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase...  
_- Evanescence, _My Immortal_**

* * *

I awoke early that morning. The sun shone brightly through my window, cascading in rays of light onto JT and I. James was sleeping down the hall in the guestroom. I walked over to his room and woke him up with a kiss on the forehead. "Good morning, sleepy head," I whispered. He grinned at me as I opened the curtains and then came back to sit on his bed. "You ready to get dressed?" He nodded. I went to his drawer and picked out a nice, crisp outfit for him to wear. He had to look presentable, after all. After dressing him hastily and kissing him on the cheek, I told him to go downstairs and wait for me at the table. I then went back into my room and woke JT; he was going to come with us as well, for support.

After dressing, and then a quick breakfast, we all piled into the car, with James in his booster seat, and drove towards our destination. I sat in the passenger's seat, remembering the look of despair on Mrs. Smith's face when I came to her house to pick up clothes, toys, and supplies for James. It hurt me deep inside, to know that I was wrenching away the only thing left to her in this world, but at the same time I justified myself telling myself that I was simply taking back what was rightfully mine. Wasn't I?

We arrived at the courthouse and saw Mr. Phillips awaiting us outside. He led us into the large room, and I sat at the table up front while James and JT chose seats in the audience, as close to me as possible. There was a low murmur filling the room as a few of mine and JT's friends came to offer us support. I looked around for my parents; they were nowhere to be found. I sighed as I sat down, smoothing my suit.

And then suddenly the buzz filling the room stopped. I turned to see what the commotion was about, and nearly bumped into Mrs. Smith.

She'd arrived.

She wore a beautiful powder-blue silk suit, which fit her body perfectly and emphasized her narrow waist. I gasped at her outfit, and I was so caught up in the splendor that I did not once think about the strangeness of this. She had just been released from the hospital, hadn't she? So why was she dressed so elegantly, looking so fresh and spiffed-up?

My jaw clenched at her poise as she sat down in her chair and folded her hands in her lap neatly, not once glancing at me, JT, or James.

Once she had taken her seat, and her lawyer sat down next to her, the judge banged his gavel against the table, demanding order in the court.

"We are here today in order to battle for the custody of a certain Samuel Smith." I stiffened at the judge's use of that name, but of course, the judge did not notice. "The persecutor, Miss Liberty Van Zandt, is demanding back the custody of her son, Samuel, who was adopted at birth by Mrs. Jane Smith." I took a sharp glance at Mrs. Smith, who either did not notice or ignored me. "The procession will now begin. Miss Van Zandt, would you care to start?"

I turned to Mr. Phillips, who stood and began to speak in his regal lawyer-voice. "Two Mondays ago, at approximately midnight, Miss Van Zandt and her husband, James Tiberius Yorke," I could practically feel JT stiffening up at his full name, even though he was several feet behind me. "Heard banging on their front door. When they went to check who it was, they found," Phillips turned sharply towards Mrs. Smith, "Jane Smith practically lying on their doorstep, sobbing hysterically over the death of her husband-"

"Your Honor, I object!" Mrs. Smith was on her feet. "How does what he is saying have anything to do with the case at hand?"

"Mrs. Smith..." The judge said warningly, raising a hand at her. She immediately sat back down, silenced. I resisted the urge to smile. The judge turned to Phillips once more, gesturing for him to continue.

Phillips smiled graciously and nodded. "Mrs. Smith was found at their doorstep, sobbing hysterically for her husband, who had tragically passed away just hours before." He held up hospital records to prove that this was, in fact, true. "Liberty and James Tiberius listened to her story, and suddenly it dawned on them that little Samuel was not with Jane. Upon their questioning as to where he was, Jane answered, and I quote, 'In the car.'" He said each of those three words with significant pronunciation, and I shuddered at the memory of that night. "Liberty found Samuel crying for his mother in the car, alone and frightened. This alone demonstrates obvious neglect of her child." The judge nodded for him to continue. "The next morning, Liberty came downstairs to find Jane passed out on her couch. Liberty panicked, and rightfully so, for the doctors at the hospital informed her that Jane would have died if she had not been brought to them sooner. Died of what, you ask?" His voice dropped to a low, grave tone. "Drug overdose."

The room immediately filled with hushed murmuring, shocked responses to this notion filling the air. Phillips waited patiently for the judge to bang his gavel once more. "Would you like to call anyone to the stand, Mr. Phillips?" The judge asked.

"Yes," Phillips replied confidently. I knew what was going to come next. "I'd like to call Miss Liberty Van Zandt to the stand."

I stood, my heart pounding in my chest and in my temple, my mind racing. I immediately began to forget everything I had so carefully rehearsed in the past few days, the panic causing my mind to go blank. I swallowed hard and stood, the eyes of everyone in the room upon me. Somehow, my feet carried me to the podium, and, after swearing solemnly to tell the truth, I sat down in the hot seat.

Phillips approached me, eyeing me carefully. In his eyes I caught a glint of reassurance, telling me it would be okay. If only I could believe him.

"Miss Van Zandt," He began, speaking slowly. "Do you attest to the fact that Mrs. Smith overdosed heavily on drugs, nearly killing herself in the process?"

"Yes," I whispered, avoiding Mrs. Smith's eyes.

"Do you believe, Miss Van Zandt, that she is parenting your child well?"

I shook my head, swallowing, and managed to squeak, "No,"

"Do you believe that the cause of her drug overdose was entirely the death of her husband?"

I looked at him, unsure what to answer. "Can- can you rephrase that, please?" I murmured after a moment.

"Certainly," He obliged. "Do you believe that she only overdosed on drugs because her husband passed away? Or do you believe this was not the first time?"

"I- I don't believe that this was the first time."

"And what causes you to believe that?"

I shrugged, my cheeks burning. "I don't know."

I looked up to see Phillips looking up at the judge. "No further questions." He said, and we returned to our seats.


	14. Proof Or No Proof?

**Thanks, everyone, for all your reviews and suggestions! I just want to point something out real quick though: I do NOT know what goes on in a court room. All I am taking this information from is what I have seen on TV. So, even though nobody has done this yet, please don't tell me I'm wrong about certain things, because I know I am, and that's why this is called FICTION.  
Well, that's all I have to say for today. Keep reading and reviewing, and don't forget to enjoy!**

**Futureauthor612 ;)**

* * *

**_So many people gonna say that they want you,  
To try to get you thinking they really care.  
But there's nothing like the warmth of the one who has put in the time and you know he's gonna be there.  
Back your border when she knows someone crossed it,  
Don't let nobody put you down, who you with,  
Take the pain of protecting your name,  
From the crutch to the cane to the highwire...  
Gonna tell you what you do to think you practice what you preach,  
Now I know there's nothing we can't reach.  
Cause a heart can't erase,  
Once it finds a place,  
To be warm and welcome.  
To be held in shelter.  
-_ Gavin Degraw, _In Love With a Girl_**

* * *

"Mrs. Smith, is there anyone you would like to call to the stand?"

Mrs. Smith's lawyer, a thin, brisk woman with sharp, defined features, rose from her chair. She spoke in a fierce, no-nonsense tone. "We would like to call to the stand... Ms. Haley Tauren."

I swivelled in my seat to see a petite young woman striding into the room. Although her slim cheekbones pulled into her jaw neatly, and her chin was held high, her nervousness was pulsing through the room. She allowed herself a quick glance in my direction before sitting down at the podium, after swearing herself to truth.

Something struck me in the way her blue eyes held compassion, the loose ponytail into which her blonde hair was pulled. It was her.

The nurse from the hospital.

A gasp emerged from my lips. What was she doing there? I turned to face Phillips, my face pale with fear. He frowned at my wide eyes, raising his eyebrows in a "What's wrong?" gesture. I shook my head, my lips pursed, and he seemed to get the idea that this was not at all good. We turned to see Mrs. Smith's lawyer, who had intoduced herself before as Angela Harris, walking towards the podium to question Haley. I bit my lip nervously as I watched.

"Ms. Smith," Harris began, an eyebrow raised as she spoke, "Where were you the Tuesday before last?"

I could see Haley's throat contract as she swallowed hard. "I was working the day shift, as usual, in St. Josef's Hospital."

"And you kept record of all the patients who came through your ward?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And did this woman," She swerved around to point a bony finger at Mrs. Smith, "Ever enter the drug ward?"

Ms. Tauren's eyes flitted to meet mine as she murmured, "No." My heart stopped short.

A tiny smirk was painted on Harris' face as she stopped pacing and faced Tauren. "So you testify to the fact that Jane Smith never once entered the hospital that day?"

Haley nodded shakily.

"And when was the last time you saw her enter the hospital?"

"The day her husband died."

"And when was that?"

"Two sundays ago."

Harris nodded thoughtfully. "No further questions."

My heart raced as we exited the courtroom for recess. The next day the case would continue. I ran to JT, who enveloped me in a quick hug before holding me before him at arm's length. "It's not true," He said. Phillips looked at him gravely.

"Liberty, there's no way we can prove we're right." He shook his head. "I mean, she doesnt look like a drug addict, does she? And now she has this nurse on her side. She's probably paying that woman a hell of a lot of money to keep her mouth shut."

I bit my lip nervously, looking down at James, who I knew would probably not be mine much longer. "What are we going to do?"

Phillips shook his head. "I'm sorry, Liberty. We can try all we want but-" He sighed. "It looks like a lost cause."

I closed my eyes and sighed, exhasperated. How could I prove that she was guilty without proof?

The next day I went to work for the first time in two weeks, trying to forget the memory of what had happened a mere twenty-four hours before. JT stayed home to take care of James, and we would go to the courtroom for the continuation of our trial at precisely two o'clock that afternoon.

I arranged the bookshelves half-heartedly, not even caring what order they were in. Every now and then I let out a hefty sigh, paused for a moment, then continued working. I didn't even bother making conversation with Shelley. It just wasn't worth it.

"Excuse me, Miss?" I looked up through slitted, uncaring eyes. "Do you work here?"

I looked down at the floor and sighed, pulling myself up so I was standing at eye level with the man. Now I could look at him closely. He had a young face, but prematurely grey hair, which was tucked under a baseball hat.

And it was familiar. I tried to place him in my mind as I stared at him, figuring out where I had seen him before.

"Hey," He began, not giving me time to continue thinking. "You're that girl from... from the Emergency Room!" He smiled a toothy grin, pleased with his good memory. My jaw fell open, but I quickly recomposed myself and closed it tight. He didn't notice my shock. He just continued talking. "How's that woman you were waiting for? You know, the one who OD'd on drugs?"

I couldn't help myself. My jaw fell open again. "You- you- you were there!" I managed to breathe. "You saw everything! You heard what happened!" I collapsed to the floor from the shock, landing on my knees, my head bowed. "Oh, thank God." I whispered, tears threatening to overflow down my cheeks. He was the proof I needed! A witness, to prove Mrs. Smith had indeed lied!

His face was a mixture of shock, surprise, and utter confusion. "I'm- I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was _that_ crucial..."

"Don't you understand?" I exclaimed excitedly, standing up and, without thinking, placing my hands on both his shoulders. "You're a witness! You'll provide them with proof that she lied!"

His face was still blank. I sighed, trying to control my excitement. I smiled graciously at him, shaking my head. "Allow me to start over." I said, slowing down. "My name is Liberty Van Zandt. You are?"

He grinned, taking my outstretched hand in his and shaking it heartily. "I _thought_ I knew you! And I have a little confession to make. You know me too."

I frowned. This time confusion was etched on my face, but a bit of a bemused smile lay there too, as if this was a joke he'd eventually let me in on. "Uh... What did you say your name was again?"

And what he said next would haunt me for years:

"John Smith."


	15. Explanation

**_I linger in the doorway,  
Of Alarm Clock screaming  
Monsters calling my name.  
Let me stay  
Where the wind will whisper to me  
Where the raindrops, as they're falling, tell a story.  
In my field of paper flowers,  
And candy clouds of lullaby  
I lie inside myself for hours  
And watch my purple sky fly over me.  
_- Evanescence, _Imaginary_**

* * *

"What?" I whispered, his words not sinking in.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you at the Emergency Room, but I didn't really want to freak you out." He looked concerned, as though he was regretting this decision wholeheartedly. "Listen, I'll tell you the story. How about I take you to The Dot and we can talk there?" I nodded, still in a daze, and followed him out of the bookstore, waving vaguely at Shelley, who raised an eyebrow at me.

The Dot was much less crowded than it had been in my high school years. Spinner had, in fact, gone to college, so nobody from school really hung out there anymore. There were plenty of empty seats to choose from as we made our way inside. We took one in the back corner, by a window.

"I thought you were dead," I said abruptly, breaking our thoughtful, or in my case confused, silence.

He nodded understandingly, frowning.

"Well? Are you going to explain that? Why your wife came to me in the middle of the night, screaming for her 'dead husband'? Why, the next morning, I found her unconscious on the couch, and went to the ER to find that she'd overdosed on drugs and could have-"

"What?" This word came out of his mouth pronounced and deliberate. "You were there... For Jane?" His jaw twitched as he swallowed.

I nodded gravely. "Yes," I squeaked, now timid and unprepared.

He looked away from me, eyes glistening, and without warning, began to speak. "Nearly eleven years ago I met Jane. We were about your age when we married, one year later." I could see him smile through his tightly-pulled lips, shaking just a bit. "I loved her so much. I wanted to make her happy. Within a few months, we found out she was pregnant with our first child. My joy," He paused, voice breaking, "knew no bounds. I was thrilled, so eager to be a father, to have something... some kind of tangible proof, of our love for each other." I shifted in my seat awkwardly as he went on.

"And so," he continued, "Ten months after our wedding, we gave birth to a beautiful son. We named him Samuel." He looked up at me as I froze, knowing this could not end well. His eyes twinkled, and he looked away again. "For two years, he was our pride and joy. The love of our lives. We refused to do anything, go anywhere, without little Sammy. And the day we finally let our guard down," His voice broke again, and he covered his mouth to shelter the sob. After a few moments he continued, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. "Sammy was two years old, and he was standing by the door watching cars go by. We were in the kitchen, preparing for the visitor we were expecting that day. But when the man came in, he... he unknowingly let out Sammy. Being a two year old child, he ran out into the street, and-" He covered his eyes, unable to finish, but I knew what happened next. It was obvious. So I sat there with Mr. Smith, and allowed him to mourn for his long-lost son.

"I'm sorry," I finally whispered, after his sobs had slowed a bit, and he looked up, shaking his head.

"Don't be." He replied, staring straight into my eyes. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault." He looked down at his clasped hands, sighing. "But I always blamed myself. Secretly, of course. I didn't want my wife to see me in this state. So for the next few years, we tried so hard to have another baby. Finally the doctors told us we couldn't. It just wasn't possible; the stress we had gone through made it that way. So there we were left, with a hole in our hearts and nothing to fill it. My wife started going to a therapist, who one day suggested adoption. My wife relayed this idea to me. I thought it was great; something to help us ease our heartache a bit. So we looked into it." I knew the rest of this story now, but I let him fill it in for me. "Finally, after nearly two years of searching for a baby to adopt, we found our salvation. We were told there was a fifteen-year-old girl looking for adoptive parents for her unborn child. It was you, of course," he added, and I nodded.

"It seemed we were the perfect candidates. So we took him with open arms, and allowed him to fill the void that we'd had in our lives since Sammy died. We even named him after our dead son. But after a while, things began to change. Jane wasn't the same; she hadn't been since Samuel's death, but I'd just been too thick-headed to notice. Now that my head was clear, however, I started seeing how different she was. She hardly ever spoke to me, or showed her love. Instead we just sort of faded, going through life together as though in a trance.

"I decided it was time for us to take a break. She fought with me, tried to get me to stay, but I just couldn't. But she refused to let me take Sammy. So I let her keep him. I was still too much in love with her to hurt her like that, so I succumbed to her wishes. I started living in hotels, and for a while everything was okay. I was even considering moving back in with Jane.

"But one day, I awoke in pain. My chest wouldn't stop hurting, so I went to a doctor. He told me I had heart disease. I needed to begin treatment immediately, and he recommended right here in Toronto. So I called Jane, and let her know what was happening, where I was going. She was upset, but still wouldn't come to see me. And so, here I am today." He concluded, inhaling hefty breath.

I didn't quite know how to react, so instead, I asked another question. "Where are you staying here?"

He looked surprised, but answered, "Just a couple of blocks away at the old inn. Why do you ask?"

I smiled kindly, shrugging. "Well, I have a big house not far from here. There's plenty of rooms for you to choose from. Not to mention, you'll see your son."

His face lit up with his charming grin. "Thank you, Liberty. I'd be honored."

"Great. But, I need to ak a little favor in return..."

"And what is that?"

"Would you mind... testifying against your wife in court?"

He looked taken aback; shocked beyond words. I hastily said, "I mean, you obviously don't need to! It's really your decision..."

"Testify against her for doing what?"

"Faking your death would be a start."

And as I explained what had been going on since he had last seen his wife, he nodded, soaking up my words. We continued talking until one-thirty, when we realized it was about time we got going to the courthouse. But we were so caught up in our conversation that we didn't notice the figure lurking in the shadows a few tables away, just close enough to hear every word we said.


	16. Betrayal

**Wow! Finally, a new chapter! I am so sorry it took so long, guys. I've been super-busy and only just got the time to finish now. Plus I finally escaped from my severe writer's block. Yay! Hopefully another chapter will be on it's way soon... No promises, though. I hope you guys like this chapter. Not much going on, but a lot of explanation and stuff like that. And remember, comments are always loved! Thanks guys! Toodles!**

futureathor612

* * *

**_Scandalous, money, greed and lust,  
In this trife life, there ain't nobody you can trust.  
Plus there's no justice, it's just us.  
In fact, watching your back it be must.  
And each and every day gets bust  
And jealous so-called friends will try to set you up.  
It's called Betrayal.  
_- Gangstarr, _Betrayal_**

* * *

"It could've gone worse..." Said JT hopefully, shrugging, while I gave him a death glare. We were exiting the courtroom, where the verdict had just been pronounced.

John had agreed to help us after hearing my story, and testified against Mrs. Smith. Even though he had proof of his identity and everything he needed, Mrs. Smith denied everything.

She was declared not guilty of faking her husband's death and overdosing on drugs, and I was not given custody of James.

I felt particularly similar to someone who had just been hit in the face with a metal baseball bat. I was dizzy and disbelieving; my insides screamed with grief. My baby, stolen from me again by this mad-woman! I shook my head at no one in particular, despaired at this turn of events.

We arrived home that evening; John, JT and I. We sat in silence in the living room, an awkward silence. There was nothing to say, nothing to do, but sit and think about this miserable existence we had gotten ourselves into.

We refused to cry or scream into the night. All we could do was sit.

Suddenly there was a loud crash outside. My heart began to pound, as though it could detect something was about to go very, very wrong.

And then, stupidly, I walked slowly to the door and opened it, to find...

Nothing.

There was nothing outside, no one, except a lone stray cat. It was evident that the cat had knocked over one of our trash cans, which was the source of that crash we had heard.

I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in the doorway, turning my head so I could let John and JT know that everything was all right, that our worst fear was not true.

And I heard a noise. Loud and clear in my ear, coming from only an inch away.

A gun cocking.

And I turned my head to find the small metal revolver pointing directly at the spot between my eyes, and I nearly fainted.

It was obvious JT had heard my sharp intake of breath, because he called out, "Liberty?"

The person holding the gun called back in an aggressive tone, "Nobody move! Nobody move!"

It was a woman.

Mrs. Smith.

Her voice was lower and more forceful than usual, but I knew it was her.

She pushed the gun into the skin of my forehead, hard, forcing me backwards. I pursed my lips and shook my head silently, staring up at her pleadingly.

She tilted her head towards the living room, implying that she wanted me to go in there with our respective husbands. I nodded, shaking slightly, and moved backwards into the room. At once I heard the gasps of JT and John simultaneously.

I was still breathing raspily, my mind racing through ideas and thoughts of how to get her out of my house quickly as possible. I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut and opening them again.

"Sit down on the couch!" Jane yelled forcefully, pushing the head of the gun into the flesh of my forehead.

I nodded hastily and obliged. I looked over at JT and John, who were sitting with their chins up, breathing heavily. "Jane," I heard John whisper, a hint of pleading in his voice.

"Shut up!" She screamed, turning the gun on him. In this instant I looked over at the coffee table. There, propped up ever-so-invitingly, was the phone. I needed to reach it and dial 911. That was all there was to it.

She turned back to me, then back to the two men, then back to me, glancing back and forth to make sure none of us could move.

I felt tears spring to my eyes, my heart caught in my throat as I thought of little James, who could never be my son, would always have to be the son of this horiffic madwoman. I couldn't very well raise him if I was dead. My shoulders shook with the pressure of holding back the hot, salty liquid which was threatening to fall down my cheeks.

I choked on my words as I whispered, "What are you doing?" It was not an accusatory tone, just a frightened and confused one.

She turned to me, eyes flashing with anger, and screamed, "_What am I doing? _I'll tell you what I'm doing! I'm taking back what was rightfully mine, and putting all of you good-for-nothing little sleazeballs into your places."

_You're the sleazeball, you wretched woman! _I thought, feeling my face contort with hatred. She glanced at my expression, then walked over towards me, grinning evilly, the gun pointed directly at my heart.

"Liberty, Liberty, Liberty..." She whispered, looking into my eyes carefully, an eyebrow raised. Finally she pulled back, smirking, and, still looking at me, pointed the gun at JT. I gasped, trembling at the thought of what would happen if she simply pulled on the trigger...I couldn't bear to think of it. "How would you like to feel the pain I felt, hm? How would you like to be left with no husband? That's what happened to me! Why shouldn't it happen to you? You're no better than me..." Her eyes narrowed as she saw my expression of horror, raised her eyebrow, and lifted the gun.

"Jane," I heard from behind the woman, she turned to find her husband calling out for her, pleadingly. "Jane, don't do this to them. Please. Kill me. Don't hurt them. They did nothing to you. It was me. I'm the one who left you. I should be punished."

Jane shook her head and replied, her voice trembling with sorrow, "But they did do something to me. They stole my baby, or tried, anyways." Her voice now became more sturdy, her words filled with pride. "Luckily, I'm a bit more experienced in the legal system than the free-wheeling little brats are." I noticed JT clench his teeth at her words, and I willed him not to say anything, for our sake.

"You see," she continued, "I paid young Ms. Tauren to give a false testament. Albeit, it had to be a hefty sum to make her lie under oath, but it was worth it. Now, I have my little Samuel." She smiled, satisfied with herself.

"But- but Mrs. Smith," I managed to stutter. She turned to me, fury etched on her face, with a questioning look. "Why did you... why did you follow Mr. Smith? To- to Toronto?"

"Why did i follow Mr. Smith...?" She repeated, then swiveled around to face John. "You told her?!"

He swallowed slowly, then said, "Yes, sweetie."

The sweetie made her features soften for a moment, but then she stiffened again. "I can't believe you! Making me sound like a desperate housewife, nothing more! How dare you?"

As John was trying to explain himself, I hastily motioned for him to stall while I slowly reached for the phone. Yes, I had it in my hands! Now all I had to do was dial 911... I could only hope they would figure the rest out for themselves. I dropped the phone behind my back, keeping it on so that somehow we would be tracked and saved. I could only hope my plan would work.


	17. Hell

**Ugh, finally a new chapter! After a few weeks of writer's block, I think I finally know how I'm going to continue, and eventually, end this story. Sorry to keep you all waiting so long! I had to get my act together. Trust me, the wait was painful for me too.  
This chapter is intense. Please let me know if it makes you feel sad, angry, scared, anything! As a writer, it makes me happy to know that my work evokes emotion.  
Thanks so much for your patience! I hope you enjoy this chapter immensely!  
Much, much love,  
futureauthor612**

* * *

_**In the arms of the angels,  
Fly away from here.  
From this dark cold hotel room,  
And the endlessness that you feel.  
You were pulled from the wreckage  
Of your silent reverie.  
You're in the arms of the angels.  
May you find some comfort here.  
- **__**In the Arms of the Angels, **__**Angelis**_

* * *

Hours.

Or so it felt like.

The silence crept into our very lungs, making it hard to breathe.

Jane sat on the coffee table, where she had a clear view of everyone. She twirled her revolver in her hands, smiling to herself, humming a little tune.

She was mad.

Insane.

How could this be the very same woman who had seemed the perfect candidate to raise my baby only three years ago? How had the very essence of propriety she used to live by been shattered, replaced with some mad desire for power, this hunger for blood and vengeance?

I could not tell what was happening with the phone. It lay behind me, still on, hopefully with someone on the other end that was smart enough to deduce what was going on. But I could not find out. The only way would be to put the phone to my ear, listen, but it was too dangerous. I would have had to be an idiot to try that. So I didn't. I just sat quietly, trying to avoid allowing my tears to go streaming down my cheeks, as they were so threatening to do.

And then a sudden thought struck me.

James!

My little angel; the reason we were in this whole mess.

Where the hell was he? I swore to myself that if he was locked up in a closet somewhere I would stand up myself and beat that woman to death.

After a few minutes (or hours; who knew?), Jane stood up abruptly. We all twitched for a moment from the sudden sharp movement, looking up to see what she would do, but she simply walked out of the room. I looked at JT, and saw that the fear in my eyes was reflected in his. I knew I should have been moving, putting the phone to my ear, but I was too petrified, for if she caught me, well…I was afraid to think of what she would do to me.

But it dawned on me that if I wanted to get out of this mess, I would have to listen to the conversation for a moment. I needed to risk it.

I shifted slightly, wincing at every small creak of the couch, and grabbed the phone from behind my back. Swiftly I pressed it to my ear.

There was no sound.

Nobody on the other side of the line.

There would be no one coming to save us; the police had obviously not understood the message I had been trying to give them.

We would die here.

That was it. The end was coming quicker than I could perceive; my mind was not working properly.

I was going to be dead in a matter of minutes, dead at the hands of the adopted mother of my son, the whereabouts of whom I had no clue. My poor baby, left to be raised by this- this bitch!

No.

I couldn't take that; I wouldn't contemplate it.

I felt the hot wetness of tears entering my eyes.

It was going to end.

No more JT; no more James.

No more work at the bookstore; no more going out with my friends.

It was all over.

My heart was pounding so loud that it was very possible that the sound was not only echoing in my ears, but the entire room as well.

Without warning, Jane reentered the room, looking furtively to make sure we weren't up to anything. As her eyes traveled to John and JT, I realized with a start that the phone was still lodged between my shoulder and my chin. I quickly released it, letting it drop to the couch. I hastily sucked in a nervous breath.

The phone was, thankfully, hidden between two cushions of the couch. I stiffened as Jane looked over at me, feeling the sheet of sweat thicken through my panic, which was now steadily regaining. If there was already no hope, what was the point in _not_ panicking?

The woman standing in the doorway of our living room began to walk, slowly, carefully, her eyes still searching the room suspiciously. Then she smirked and raised an eyebrow, walking casually toward her husband. She kneeled down beside him, still smiling smugly.

"John," She murmured, articulating the word carefully, as thought playing it out on her tongue. Then she leaned into him and, in a rush, pulled out the silver revolver. She was still smiling, damn her, even as the tears poured out of the poor man's eyes as he looked up as bravely as he could into hers.

"Jane," he whimpered, and in that moment he sounded so helpless, so terrified, that I knew it was over. We couldn't win. She would kill each one of us individually, smiling all the way.

I gulped, my stomach twisting into a knot of fear and horror, as she slowly worked the gun into a position so that its head was inside his mouth.

"I loved you," She whispered, and for a moment she sounded almost human, as though she had feelings, as though she could care for anyone but herself. "All those days, when I was so removed from you, all I wanted… All I wanted was for you to hug me, kiss me, to tell me that you loved me unconditionally, forever.

"But you couldn't do that." She continued, voice becoming less sad, angrier. "When you left, I waited. I waited for you to return, so I could tell you I was sorry and that I loved you. I wanted it so bad it hurt. Every day, I awoke in pain from the torment I was going through.

"And now," Her voice was barely above a whisper as her finger lightly touched the trigger, tongue running along the edges of her teeth. "You'll pay."

And with that she pulled the trigger, and I wanted so badly to cry out, to scream, but my voice was stuck in my throat, lodged there, so that all I could do was choke in horror as I watched it happen. I needed to look away, anywhere but there. I couldn't watch this take place, not under my roof, in my home! I tried so hard to tear my eyes away, but to no avail.

I saw every second of it, as though it was happening in slow motion. First his eyes widened in shock, then they rolled back into their sockets, so that all that could be seen was the whites. I could hear a faint choking sound as his head bashed against the pale wall, and in that moment I wondered vaguely why we had chosen cream paint for the living room, because now the walls would be forever tainted with the memory. The blood began to rush in waves now, streaming from his mouth, his nose, even his ears.

I looked at the ceiling; I couldn't bare to see what our poor John had become. It was too terrible.

It was over. She had gotten her revenge; now she would be finished, right?

But then I heard the gun cock.

And I knew. Oh, I knew it wasn't over. It was just the beginning.

I hesitantly looked down, where she was kneeling on the floor, her eyes bugging out wildly.

The gun wasn't pointed at me.

It was pointed at JT.

This time I could scream.

I let out a hight-pitched, bloodcurdling shriek of horror as I leaped off the couch, onto the floor, curling into a ball with my eyes pressed up against my arms.

This I couldn't watch. Not again. I couldn't see my JT on the brink of death, not this time.

There was a moment of silence, and, though my ears were as covered as I could get them, I managed to hear the gunshot. It hit me like a punch in the gut, there cowering on the carpet.

The pain. The pain was too much. It knocked the breath out of me for a long, agonizing moment, and then it returned in waves of tormented sobs, sobs of loss, sobs of hatred, and sobs of agony.

He was gone. There was no doubt in my mind that JT was gone, dead.

Never again would I see his shining face, share in his wondrous kisses, be able to hug him as tightly as humanly possible.

He was dead.

There was a bang at the door. I heard the sound of footsteps, yells from men. I heard a faint shout of "Is anyone here?"

And that, the agonizing pain, my curled-up form on the carpet, scuffling feet through the doorway, was all I registered before I blacked out.


	18. Pain

**Whoa, this was a pretty quickly-written chapter, I must say! I wrote it in a very short amount of time; it was just flowing easily. I hope you find this...I dunno, interesting, scary, sad... remember to tell me about the emotions I evoke in you! It was kinda scary and sad for ME, as I was writing it, too. Enjoy this chapter and don't forget to review!**

**~futureauthor612~**

* * *

_This life is filled with hurt,  
When happiness doesn't work.  
Trust me and take my hand,  
When the lights go out, you will understand...  
Anger and agony are better than misery...  
Pain, without love  
Pain, can't get enough.  
Pain, I like it rough,  
Cuz I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all.  
- __Pain, __Three Days Grace_

* * *

"_Liberty?" _

I was running.

Running so fast I couldn't see a thing.

I was running from the monster, who creeped through the shadows to find me and kill me. I couldn't let it get me. I just couldn't.

But my legs were growing tired. My breath was becoming ragged and labored.

_This has to stop! _I thought to myself as I continued to run. _I can't play this game forever._

I turned on my heel, hair blowing in the wind furiously, and held out a single hand. As if to say: stop.

The blurred figure kept moving, unfazed by my silent command, but slowed, somewhat contemplative.

My heart was racing as I stood my ground, facing the figure. My voice came out as barely a whisper, so timid yet brave that I hardly recognized it.

"Stop this," I said, the rage and fear mixed into my voice. "It has to stop. You can't keep doing this to me!" I was shaking from the two emotions. "Please!" I know pleaded, my voice becoming stronger and louder. "_Please_!" I screamed, falling to my knees.

The monster simply looked on with, though I could not tell through the blurredness of its face, what I assumed was thoughtful interest.

And then it let out a chuckle. It was low, throaty, but very amused. It was _laughing_ at me! I tried not to suppress vomit as I stared at it, enraged.

"What are you _doing_?" I shrieked, frustrated, unable to understand what was happening, or why I was here. "_Stop it!" _

The monster simply continued laughing heartily, and with its blurry hand gestured to the ground before me.

I gazed down at it, unsure of what it was I should be seeing.

Then, with a pang of horror, I realized.

The lifeless form on the ground was JT.

I shrunk back, and let out a blood-curdling scream that rippled through the heavy fog-ridden air. I sank to the ground with a tremor, my hands flying to shield my face from witnessing this horror.

"_Why did you do this?_" I shrieked at the monster from behind my hands, and then removed them from my face. "_Stop it! Give him back!_" I was shaking with sobs as reality sunk in, moaning from loss and pain. "_PLEASE!"_ My desperate yell echoed around the wide-open field I sat in.

And that monster kept on laughing.

But now the blurriness was fading, the image was becoming sharper, and now I could see its face more clearly. It was laughing, howling with laughter at my pain.

It was the face of Jane Smith.

I awoke with a start, but my eyes remained closed, heart thumping madly against my ribcage, as though I was still there. I felt the hard, itchy surface of carpet beneath my body, and I longed to get up. But the fear was gripping me, paralyzing me, preventing me from moving as though I was afraid I would find my nightmare alive.

"Liberty?" The frantic voice I had heard before, calling my name anxiously. "Liberty, please, everything's okay. It's okay."

I opened my eyes, and for a split second my imagination was still working, and I thought it was still a dream.

But it was real. JT was leaning over me, searching my eyes worriedly. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized I was conscious.

"Oh, Liberty," He whispered, pulling me into a tight hug, lifting me slightly off the ground. "It's okay now. Don't be scared."

But I still couldn't fathom what had happened. If JT wasn't dead, then who had been shot? It was so confusing.

I sat up and rose carefully to the ground, JT rising with me. That was when I noticed the other sounds, in the background. Men with serious-sounding voices, heavy footsteps falling in the hallway and kitchen, the sounds of muffled walkie-talkie feedback.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding when I found it was the police; they had gotten my call. What a relief. I couldn't bear to think- if they hadn't come…

I allowed my gaze to drift to the floor, and everything suddenly made more sense. The slumped body of John Smith, covered in blood, was still against the wall on the floor. Only the whites of his eyes were visible. I winced, and continued my gaze until it met the monster. The dark brown hair, the gun lying next to the body, left no mistake of what had happened there.

Jane's body was on the floor as well. It was twisted in an awkward position, her body lying sideways while her head faced upwards. Her eyes stared openly, unseeing, never to see again. There was a large bloodstain on the carpet next to her head.

She had not shot JT; she had turned the gun on herself. One last act of self-pity, and yet, perhaps, guilt. Righteousness. Could it have been that, in those last moments when her finger was on the trigger and it was pointed at JT, she had a sudden stroke of guilt? Maybe she had realized the immensity of her actions, which she would live with for the rest of her life. Perhaps the guilt was so strong, she couldn't even live with herself any longer. I hope she had some kind of human bone in her body which caused her to think that way.

But I found myself thanking God that hers was the body on the floor, not JT's. My arms wrapped around my husband's waist, my eyes no longer able to witness this, so I pressed my face into his chest. I felt his hand rest gently on the small of my back, rubbing it gently. "Shhh," he whispered, lulling my grief and torment and rage.

Was it wrong to be thankful that she was dead, when she had killed an innocent man? Did she deserve to be mourned, or mocked, after all the pain she had given us? But what about the pain we had given her? Us constantly trying to steal James back must have killed her emotionally…

James! Where was he? My rage at her fired back immediately. I needed to find my son.

I broke from JT's embrace, still not allowing my eyes to wander to the floor, and walked briskly to the hallway where two men and a woman were standing in blue uniforms, talking hurriedly and calling an ambulance to take the two obviously-dead bodies to the hospital.

"Excuse me?" I said quietly, not wanting to interrupt the people who had, in essence, saved my life. The woman turned to me and smiled. She was beautiful, that was for sure, but her eyes were those of someone who had seen much too many hardships. Her name tag read **Officer Block**. "Officer, how… how did you know…?" My suddenly sparked curiosity required me to ask this.

"Your call," she replied, eyes glistening kindly. "Good job using a cell phone, honey. We used the signal to track your location, after hearing snippets of what she-" Officer Block jerked her head towards the living room. "-was saying, and we could tell it was trouble. I only wish we had got here sooner. We could have saved two lives tonight…" She sighed, and for a fleeting moment her face was hard with pain and shame. But then her face softened again.

Then I realized why I had come to her in the first place. "My son," I whispered, then my voice became more urgent. "Where is he?"

She looked unsure. "Your son?"

"It's a long story… she had him, where is he?" I was frantic now. "Check the car, check outside, check the bushes, her hotel, anywhere! Just find him, please!"

"Okay, okay, don't worry." She murmured comfortingly, patting me wordlessly. "We'll find him."

As if on cue, an additional male cop walked in, holding a small figure in his arms. "Found this little one crying hysterically in the trunk of her car. Poor little guy."

"James!" I cried, yanking him from the policeman's arms. "Oh my God, thank God you're okay!" His shoulders shook from the sobs, and he looked up at me. His face was so helpless and tear-streaked and frightened that I began to sob as well, clutching him to me. "It's okay, baby," I whispered, reassuring myself as well as him. "You're gonna be okay, Mama's got you." I rocked him gently in my arms as the tears streamed down my face, too heartbroken for my baby to be angry at Jane.

JT came and put an arm around my shoulders, stroking James' cheek absently, tears running down his face as well. The policemen looked on solemnly.

Just then the paramedics came rushing in with stretchers, into our living room, to work on the bodies. There was no hope for them, everybody knew that already, but they had to try.

There, standing in the front hallway of the place I used to think of as my sanctuary, but which was now a murder/suicide scene, I knew what I had to do. My baby in my arms, JT beside me, two dead people in my living room, I knew what would give me closure.

John's would be the easy part, so-to-speak. I loved John like a brother or a father; he was a good man. Attending his funeral would be heartbreaking, for sure, but easy in comparison to the other thing I had to do.

Jane's funeral would be hard. The mixed feelings I knew would come up would be hard to deal with, I knew, but I needed this.

That was the only way I could gain peace in my mind.

That was how I would defeat my monster.


	19. The Healing Process

**Hey people! Wow, sorry it's been so long since I last updated; I've just been really busy.  
So this chapter is a little depressing; not in the scary way, but in the heartache kinda way, I guess... It's a bit shorter than the others, but I really enjoyed writing it. It describes so many feelings and longings and desires which can never be met. Go ahead and read, what are you waiting for?! And oh yeah: PLEASE review!! I need reviews! Thank you. :-) Enjoy!  
**

**~futureauthor612~  
**

**P.S.- I have been having a lot of trouble deciding what to do with this story lately, which is one of the reasons this chappy is so short. So here's my request for all of you. I need you to answer me this: What should I do with this story? Should I continue it until the very end, or end it soon and create a short sequel?  
Actually now looking back it seems like option A makes a lot more sense...but write your decision in your review and I'll let you decide! Love you guys! Keep reading and reviewing!**

* * *

** _Everyone keeps talking  
They promise you everything,  
But they don't mean anything.  
We may lose our focus ,  
There's just too many words  
We're never meant to learn.  
And we don't feel so alive.  
Say goodbye- these days are gone,  
And we can't keep holding on,  
When all we need is some relief  
In these hard times.  
- _These Hard Times, _Matchbox 20_**

* * *

Months passed.

Remarkably, unbelievably, they disappeared.

The haunting memories.

The nightmares.

The images.

They all faded away with time, and thus I came to believe that, in truth, time does heal all wounds. Sometimes not completely, but at least a scab forms there.

And that was what happened. Of course, these mental pictures and horrifying memories remained in our minds, and would remain there for the rest of our lives. They had traumatized us all. And yet, after a few months of living life normally, the wounds began to heal. They closed up, the bleeding staunched, and some even faded away to scars.

Sometimes, those events which you think you are least likely to forget are the ones which you forget the easiest. I didn't really know why this happened, but perhaps it was because that was what we needed. Human beings (My family especially) sometimes simply go through _too much_ tragedy. Sometimes it's just too much to handle. People deal with this in different ways. Some commit suicide, to end the aching visions and voices constantly lurking in their minds.

And some, me included, simply block it out. It's too painful to overanalyze, or constantly think about. We must push it to the backs of our minds; maybe take it out every now and then to have a good cry, or to be thankful we survived that incident.

So that was what we did. We _lived_, simply put. I began sending James (of whom the court had granted JT and me full custody) to preschool. And with this, I noticed a change in him. He became more sociable, no longer hiding in his room when guests came over (which was a rarity in itself). He came home with art projects, posters for different in-school events, and play dates. I began to experience the feeling of what it's like to be a real mother. And I was loving every second of it.

So maybe, the true reason we had all that tragedy, was to finally get some good in our lives. Maybe, we had all those hardships so that we would appreciate the good, and never take it for granted. I know I learned that lesson very well.

As I looked back in retrospect, I only had gratitude for those tragedies. In fact, I was happy. Of course, not that anyone died or got hurt, mentally or physically, but the fact that these times had only brought us closer as a family.

A little advice for the needy: when in doubt, turn to your family. They can be your greatest asset in life.

We made it through the winter this way. When the bitter winds (metaphorical and literal) came beating down our doors, the unity of our family held firm against them.

I don't know how else I would have survived otherwise.

One day an invitation came in the mail, to a party. My heart froze when I saw the words _you are invited_ written in loopy cursive. I hadn't seen an invitation to anything since my wedding.

"JT!" I screamed, running up the stairs to where he was with James in our son's room, dressing him for school.

He looked up interestedly. "What?"

I was out of breath. "We…got…invited…to a…_party." _ I collapsed to the bed; both men in my life were staring at me confusedly.

"A party?" JT asked skeptically, and I understood his cynicism to mean two things: number one, he couldn't believe we were invited to a party. And number two, he didn't think it advisable to go.

I sighed, looking down at his warning-filled face. "JT," I whined, pouting at the ceiling as I lay down on Jamesy's bed. I heard JT shuffling to continue dressing James as he talked.

"What do you expect, Lib? That by going there everything will suddenly be okay? That the memories will just completely go away because you let loose one night?"

I sat up straight, suddenly serious. "JT," I said in a low voice so that James, who was sitting at his small Fisher Price® table coloring, couldn't hear. "You know we can't continue like this forever. We can't live our lives like this, constantly on the edge, as though waiting for something to happen again. We need to _move on;_ if not for our sakes, then for his." I nodded in the direction of our son.

His face hardened, and he looked away. In that instant I knew exactly what this was about. Our last real party had not been the best of them. I sighed, pulling him towards me in a hug, my head pressed against his chest. "Don't worry," I whispered, holding him close. "I won't let anything happen to you. I swear it. Never again."

He nodded into my shirt, and I felt wetness soaking through the fabric. I clenched his hair in my fist, pressing my face into his head as he moaned quietly into me.

After a few moments I gently pushed him off me, reaching up with my thumb to wipe away his tears. "James," I whispered, and stood up, brushing off my clothing and smoothing them out. "Come on, baby, Mommy's going to drive you to school."

He looked at me, then at JT, the crayon still clutched in his hand. "Is daddy okay?" he asked timidly.

I smiled at him, walking over to pick his small body up into my arms. "Of course, sweetie. He just has some things he wants to think about." I leaned down with my son in my arms, allowing him to give his father a kiss. Then I blew a kiss to JT as well, and waved goodbye as I carried Jamesy down the stairs.

After I'd dropped him off at preschool, and was driving slowly through the streets, I pulled over at the side of the road, my throat closing up, the airways sealing tight. I choked for air, and a sob escaped my mouth.

The tears I'd been holding back for a long, long time, since way before I even had Jane and John and James in my thoughts, came pouring out. They flowed down my face, dropping into my lap like raindrops. The hole in my chest was too big, too big to stand.

How, how could I try to live a normal life when I could never do it, _never_ be normal? It just wasn't possible, but I was all I wanted. I wanted a life where I could walk out at night without being afraid of someone trying to kill me; where my son could sleep through a night where he wouldn't wake up screaming from a nightmare about his dead psychotic pseudo-mother. I wanted a life where I could go to parties and not be scared my husband would be stabbed all over again, or feel guilty for partying in these hard times.

I slammed my head against the windshield, wanting physical pain that might somehow relieve the bitter mental pain inside of me.

True, some wounds heal with time.

But the deepest wounds, those that drive so deep below the surface, penetrating the very essence of your being; these will never heal.

And sometimes it's just too much to cope with.


	20. Bruised, But Not Broken

**Wow. It has been QUITE a long time. I'm sorry guys! I've been so busy, and writer's block has been crazy for me. I have so many ideas but no clue how to express them on paper in a way that will make sense like it does in my head! **

**Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I hope it makes sense. It's pretty short, and doesnt have much information, but at least it's something...! I pray, pray, pray that I will get a new chapter up soon. Thank you for all your patience; I love you all! **

**Soooo, review and tell me what you think. Good? Bad? Did it even make sense? Was it even worth putting up?**

**Thanks! :-* keep reading and reviewing.**

**~futureauthor612~

* * *

**

**_And i'll be alright  
And i'll love again  
And the wounds will mend  
I'm bruised but not broken  
And the pain will fade  
I'll overcome my fear  
Is not the end of me  
My heart is still open now  
I'm bruised but not broken._**

**_- _Joss Stone, _Bruised But Not Broken

* * *

_  
**

_How does one forget?_

_How does one pull the memories out of their brain, throw them away to some waste bin far away; dispose of them in such a way that they can never, ever return?_

_Is it even possible?_

_The brain is a fantastic specimen. There is so much room for all of our thoughts, feelings, desires… In truth, nothing is ever thrown away.

* * *

  
_

My issues were growing quickly. I could feel them building up inside of my chest, threatening to burst each and every moment. The what-ifs never ceased to creep into my head.

_What if James is traumatized forever and just doesn't know it?_

_What if JT gets shot again and I'm not there to help him?_

_What if someone crazy like Jane comes into our lives again?_

_What if I never get over this?_

And of course, the most important, non-what-if question: _How much more can I take?_

Evidently, he found me sitting in the car.

JT came to me, on foot. Simply walked up to the car and knocked on the window. I opened the door, refusing to look at him, meet his eyes, for fear that he would see the shame and torture and how my soul was tearing up inside me. He sat down in the passenger's seat, reaching over to place his hand on my thigh, tracing circles with his fingers.

There we sat for hours in silence, facing the truth that was inevitable: Life could never be normal for us. We would really never be the happy family you see on TV.

We were practically becoming a stereotype: Teenager gets pregnant and marries her boyfriend, only to find that this doesn't fix anything and there will still be a big mess on their plates whether they like it or not.

Okay, so our story included a psychotic drug addict, a heavy court case, and several other insane plotlines you'd expect to only find in movies. A bit different, but the same basic point.

All the same, we had grown up much, much quicker than the average teenagers. Nothing could change that.

Finally, after about four hours, the sky darkened a bit, and soon after that it began to rain. JT suddenly opened his door and stepped outside. I tried to say "What are you doing?" but found my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.

Instead I followed his lead and exited the car as well. The chilly April rain caused my teeth to chatter as I slowly made my way over to my husband.

"It's cold, JT!" I managed to yell over the cracks of thunder from above. He responded by tightly wrapping his arms around my shivering body, drawing me closer to him. I buried my face in his chest, letting out a deep breath. His lips met my ear; the warmth of his breath warmed my heart as well.

"Liberty," he said into my ear, loud enough for me to hear over the sounds of the pouring rain, "If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be?"

I hesitated for a moment, drawing back to search his eyes. "I… I would be right here…in your arms. Except I'd have my baby with me too."

He smiled, kissing me on the lips with such force and passion that I was forced to stumble back, holding onto him for support. "Then why are you trying to change what you have? If you have everything you want in life, why not just settle down?" He took my hands into his and his forehead against mine. "You," He said, almost too softly for me to hear, "are the most beautiful, thoughtful, charming, intelligent woman that I have ever met. I would not trade you for the world. I love you, Liberty Van Zaandt. Why are you trying so hard to change? I need you right now. _James _needs you right now. And we need you exactly the way you are. There's nothing in your life you should try to fix."

I choked, sputtering out a few sobs, and then I reached my lips up to his, and the rain running down my cheeks mixed with the tears. And right then I knew that nothing in the world would ever tear me away from those who loved me most. That was all that mattered.


	21. Unconditional

**Alright, alright. Let me have it. I've been terrible to you guys. My remaining 2 followers might be excited to see a new chapter... the rest of you notsomuch! Anyway I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me! My lame excuse is writer's block to the extreme.**

******Okay, I'm not yet positive if this is the direction I want to take with the story, but we'll see how it goes... **I hope you enjoy this two-for-one upload deal... :)

* * *

One day the letter from my mother came.

She and my dad had been living in British Columbia for almost a year now; since JT and I moved in to their house.

Her note was not urgent, nor did it sound worrisome. It seemed more like a simple statement of fact.

_Liberty-_

_Daddy is sick. It's not serious, but he will be in the hospital for a while. The doctors mentioned something about lymphoma; I don't know how bad it is. Please don't worry. He'll be fine. I just thought you should know._

_-Mom_

And, to state it literally, that's all she wrote.

I read it the moment I entered the kitchen; JT had handed it to me. My hand flew to my heart as I dropped the letter and grasped for something to hold on to that would keep me steady. Daddy, sick? How was this possible?

He had never been there for me. All he'd ever wanted was a son. I was named Liberty in memoriam of Martin Luther King, Jr., because he provided freedom for all people of color. If I had been a boy, however, my father would have named me exactly after his hero. (Of course, by the time Danny was born, Grandpa had just passed, and my mother had insisted he be named after her father.)

I was never really loved, it felt; my raising depended on rules and strict standards. Never was I permitted to go out to birthday parties and such; schoolwork was always more important to my parents. Eventually my friends stopped inviting me to their parties because I never came. Because of all these regulations which had been set out for me, I became a loner.

They hated JT. A tiny part of me had always figured it was probably because they hated the fact that someone could actually love me; but I knew the truth. They hated him because he brought me to life like no one else could. He had been there for me in all my ups and downs; he'd been there for me _when they weren't_. Perhaps it was out of guilt that they hadn't raised me well that they gave us their house when we married.

Although this "act of kindness" might have accounted for something, it didn't. I never heard from them again after that. Not one email wondering how I was, or how JT was, or if my life was going well. They had no idea I was a mother again, nor did they know about the Smiths' return and death, and least of all that I was not in college.

And now, for the first time in nearly a year, my mother was making efforts to communicate with me. I was bewildered, for the most part. Though she sounded so heartless in the note, could it have been that she was beside herself with grief at the news of Daddy's illness, so much so that she wanted me to come there and help out? But she couldn't say it for fear of letting down her façade, that she might seem vulnerable. So she was discreet about her request.

But all that was left for me to wonder was _why_. Why did she want me down there? I was sure Danny would be going too; they'd always loved him more. They didn't need me with them. Not now.

At the same time, how could I say no? It was my family. I loved them, or at least I should have, I assumed. No matter what.

I looked up from my daze. JT was staring at me worriedly. "Are you okay?" He asked tentatively.

I took a breath, and pointed to the note on the table. He picked it up and read quickly, his brow gradually furrowing as he got to the end. He put it down and looked at me.

"You should go." He muttered, walking towards the counter and placing his hands on the cold stone granite.

"I should?"

He nodded at the window, not looking at me.

I hesitated. "Why?"

He turned to me. "Liberty, they're your parents. If you don't go now, you'll regret it. I know you will. You love them. They need you."

I frowned. "They don't― they don't know about James." I whispered.

He nodded. "You should bring him."

I shook my head. "I should bring _you_."

His expression was hard and firm. "No, Lib. You need to do what's right. Your parents don't want to deal with me right now. They want you. And your baby. Imagine how they'll feel when they see what an amazing mother you've been? You need to do this."

I closed my eyes. "What if… What if they don't love him like I do? What if they're not proud of him like I am? How can I ever… I don't even know how they could ever love a child of mine." Tears came out of the corners of my eyes and I quickly wiped them away.

I felt cool hands on my wet cheeks and looked up. JT was looking determinedly into my eyes. "They will love him, _because_ of the fact that he's yours, not despite. Liberty," his thumbs rubbed my cheeks gently. "You might not know this, but you've made them _so proud_. Do you hear me?" I nodded, more tears flowing. "Just by being you, beautiful, intelligent, and an all-around good person, you have made them happy. Maybe they don't show it so well, because they're afraid. They're afraid to let you know just how much they love you for fear that they might push you away. They figure it's easier to simply turn away from you; not to show their faces. They think that's the best thing to do. Don't hold their wrong decisions against them."

My face scrunched in a sob as I wrapped my arms around him. "How did I get such a damn perfect husband?"

He smiled into my hair. "Because you're too damn perfect to have anyone else."

After that speech, I just couldn't say no. The next day I was boarding the plane to Victoria, bags in one hand, son in the other.


	22. It's Been a While

**I've had this chapter for a while but wasn't sure how long I wanted it to be. I decided to keep it short and sweet.**

**Alright, without further ado... READ AND REVIEW! I love all my readers! 3**

**~futureauthor612~**

* * *

The entire plane ride, all I could think about was my fear. The dread to see my parents again, imagining the look on my mother's face when she saw my child, was almost too much to bear. I held it in, for the most part, because I was with James, and he came first. But when he fell asleep on the flight, my mind raced back to them.

Danny was in college now; he wouldn't even be there to back me up. If he even still believed in me. What had my life become? I was a wreck, emotionally and physically. I didn't even know why I was on that plane to B.C. My parents didn't want to see me anyway.

The airport was crowded, and James clung to me for dear life as we walked through the throngs of people towards baggage claim. I hailed a cab and we made our way to my parents' house.

"Mommy, why haven't I ever met grandpa and grandma?" asked James in the car. My breath nearly stopped.

"Because, baby, Grandpa and Grandma live so far away, we were never able to see them."

He shrugged and leaned against me, and I looked outside the window at the passing cars and houses. I sighed, my stomach doing flips.

"Here we are, 45 Swallow Lane. That'll be sixty-two bucks." The driver muttered when we pulled up.

Holy crap, cabs were expensive these days… I handed him the cash and unloaded my bags from the trunk, watching him pull away before I finally turned to face my parents' house. "Home sweet home," I murmured, and grabbed James' hand, struggling with my suitcase in the other. "Let's go, sweetie."

My mother opened the door and her jaw fell open. "Liberty!" She looked at me awkwardly for a few moments and hugged me. "How are you, honey? How's your life? How's JT?" She brushed my hair out of my face a few times, stroking my cheek and looking into my eyes. "My baby," she murmured, and her eyes glistened with tears.

I was stricken. Who the hell was this woman? This kind, caring woman was definitely not the one who'd raised me, nor was she the one who I hadn't spoken to in a year. Why was she acting like this?

"Um, hi, Mom," was all I could say in reply, looking at her shockedly for a few moments, before I felt a tug at my pants. I hustled to move out of the way and show the boy standing behind me. My mother's eyes widened simultaneously to my hasty explanation of, "Mom, this is James. My son."

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, much like a dying fish. Finally she was able to gasp something along the lines of, "What?"

"You- you already know him, Mom. Remember?"

"Of course I remember, Liberty, but… what confuses me is… why do you… _have_ him?"

I shrugged. "It's a long story."

She bustled me inside to the living room, sitting me down on the couch next to her. After running to grab Jamie a cookie, she took my hand and sat down. "I have all the time in the world."

I told her everything, from when I first saw James, to when Jane was arrested. The entire time she listened with fascination and horror, and it made me feel something I'd never felt before; _valued_. It was a strange feeling. After we were through all she could do was stare.

And sigh.

And then, to my utter surprise, she reached out and hugged me.

But what was even more surprising than the hug itself, was how much it meant to me.


End file.
